


The Inquisitor and the Recalcitrant Mage

by Carleen



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Dragon Age Romance, Herald of Andraste, M/M, Renewal, Tevinter, Tevinter Imperium, Yaoi, dorian pavus - Freeform, inquisitor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:25:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carleen/pseuds/Carleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hello and thanks for stopping by. A word about my choice to use a rather negative view of women. For one thing, Dorian is thinking it, not saying it out loud and based on what he says in other conversations - if you romance him - it's not out of character. In medieval times, a noblewoman had one job and that was to breed an heir. A poor woman had two jobs, breed and work herself to death. A few women did rise to positions of power, but they were rare. Anyway, I hope you won't let my choice words stop you from finishing the story. Thanks again.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Inquisit This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello and thanks for stopping by. A word about my choice to use a rather negative view of women. For one thing, Dorian is thinking it, not saying it out loud and based on what he says in other conversations - if you romance him - it's not out of character. In medieval times, a noblewoman had one job and that was to breed an heir. A poor woman had two jobs, breed and work herself to death. A few women did rise to positions of power, but they were rare. Anyway, I hope you won't let my choice words stop you from finishing the story. Thanks again.

* * *

     Here's the truth of it. He never saw it coming and that bothered him. He'd only come here to join the Inquisition with a half-formed conviction they were doing the right thing. Until now, the right thing had been, the right wine, the right bed sport, the right leather for a new outfit, and getting as far away from his father as he could manage. All without getting too far away from decent civilization.

     These convictions enabled him to sidestep the truth of the family responsibilities waiting for him at home. Responsibilities his father couldn't wait to force on him. Complete with a mold to remake his wayward son on everything from politics to family responsibility. But his father was no longer young and someday, sooner than he could even think about, he would be in charge of his family.

     But at twenty-six he could still convince himself he had all the time in the world. That nothing and no one would ever mean enough to hold him down for any longer then he judged tolerable. The thought of anything else, like the fat thighs and bulbous breasts of some breeder his father picked out for him, created a clot of fear in his throat, which threatened to come out like a scream or simply choke him.

     So it was all fight the good fight and close the Breach. Plenty of action and loot. The food was plentiful and hot, with more than enough drink to drown the terrors of battle. What more could a man ask for? Indeed, what more did any man have the right to expect?

     Then it all unraveled one day while talking to that rather virile dwarf with the delectable behind and convenient height. Just standing in front of him was arousing and he was glad for the codpiece to hide the antics of the appendage between his legs that was even more of a devil than he was. The dwarf is handsome and serviceable, although perhaps not enough to wet his mustache over. The twitching thing between his legs was agreeing with him though. Then just as he was about to suggest an intimate conversation over a glass of vintage anything the sun came out.

     Not the sun up in the sky, which had been hiding for the last two weeks behind greasy black storm clouds, but a golden head, set on a pair of broad shoulders, walking through the camps. Cullen? No, that wasn't Cullen. None of those ridiculous feathers bouncing around his face.

     Honestly, bird feathers hadn't been in style since he was a boy giving hand jobs for a few coins in the market square. Well, he'd only really done that once on a dare from one of the other boys. He actually did make a few coin and a whipping from his father that bruised and terrified him. He learned a valuable lesson that day to stay quiet and don't trust. Dorian shook his head. Now where had all those old thoughts come from, he wondered? Back to thinking about Cullen. That man was a closeted queen if he was any judge. Perhaps the man would be good sport? Teach him a few things and show him another side of the sheets, so to speak.

     No, he'd come upon him and Cassandra one night in a clinch. No problem. To each his own. When that scream in your head gets too loud, Cullen, come see me. And that had all been fine, until he heard Cassandra giggle. Maker, he'd stayed drunk for two days trying to wash that sound out of his ears.

     He allowed the sound of the Dwarf's chatter to slip away while he watched the man in question walk between the camps toward the Hall. Who was he? Definitely tall. About head taller than himself. As he neared, Dorian took in the dark blue eyes and the sun-streaked golden hair. Those eyes! Dark as midnight set in smooth fair skin. The blond hair was clean and fell to his shoulders in disobedient loose curls. One hand swung at his side, the other rested on the hilt of his sword as he walked purposefully.

     The dwarf was chuckling. 

     "Shut up, little man," Dorian hissed under his breath.

     The man is suddenly standing directly in front of him, smiling at him over a row of healthy white teeth. The tiny lines around his eyes tell him this is a man who enjoys laughing. Dark eyes flickered down and back up to his face. Dorian's knees weakened and made him feel was about ten years old. No, not ten. More like fourteen.

     "Something in my teeth?" The man asked with teasing smile, as if testing him. "Dorian Pavus, right?" The golden man took his hand in a firm grip. I heard you joined us in Redcliff. Welcome aboard. I watched you in action today." The grin came out again and Dorian, without the words to respond, simply basked in the warmth of the man's smile.

     Then he was gone and Dorian's hand floated in the air where the golden man had let go.

     "Who was that?"

     "That my flustered friend was the Inquisitor."


	2. If You Were the Only Boy in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all the readers. I'm so happy you're enjoying the story.

* * *

     Dorian Pavus the Altus Mage from the Imperium of Tevinter was perfectly capable of wielding his status when it suited him. And damned if he would look the fool in front of this arrogant dwarf. He hadn't been here very long and one must set an example lest others draw their own conclusions. With his dignity wrapped around himself like a mantle of finest bear fur, he sneered at the laughing dwarf.

     “Mind your manners, Varric,” the mage snapped before striding away.

     Varric only laughed louder. “What are you planning to do to me, Mage? Save your bluster for the battlefield." Dorian cursed under his breath. That moment had gone up like the stinking smoke of a bad spell. The dwarf forgotten, Dorian wondered at what just happened. Accustomed to taking his pleasure where he found it, instead he found himself unsettled and indecisive.

     Certainly, the Inquisitor had other things on his mind than a quick thrust against between the battlements. Then again, maybe that’s just what he needed. A little something to take the edge off the stress of saving the world. Perhaps he preferred the fairer sex, with their soft flesh and mewling ways. All this information was easily attainable, but what then? Dammit, how should he approach this golden man? Dorian wasn’t sure and that just wasn’t like him.

     But the day had been long, the battle fierce and he was tired. To clear his head and prepare for sleep he took a random path into the woods. Away from prying eyes, smirks, and assorted uneducated peasants with his head down and lost in thought the mage wandered away from the Keep.

     The heat of the day took him toward the water’s edge. Where clear, cold mountain water flowed over smooth oval rocks making a pretty sound as it traveled on its way south.The late afternoon sun warmed him. The leather armor sticking to his sweaty grimy skin luring him into the water. Above his head, birds busily went about their business of settling in for the night. He kicked at the edge of the shoreline, dislodging a rock and watched it sink while small fish darted out of its path. Choosing another one with care, Dorian skipped it across the flat surface. It didn't take him long to locate several good smooth ones in his hand. Dorian skipped a second rock across the water and counted the jumps. Only four. He used to be good at this.

     He hated being alone. What was he even doing out here in these Maker forsaken wilds? Left home after discovering his father meant to use blood magic on his son. He'd left, his heart broken and mind in chaos. Walked away with the clothes on his back, his staff and precious little money in his pocket. Dorian scanned the area, any number of wild beasts could come out of the forest. Not that he couldn’t take care of himself. He needed a drink... several drinks. Just go to the tavern, pick out something young and clean, and fuck him against the back wall in some quiet corner. If he protested, toss him enough coin to quiet him. Perhaps buy him a meal and talk about what? Pig sales? The price of wool or how the tavern keeper waters down the beer? Trouble was he’d already checked out the local tavern. There was no one there for him and Maker he was no rapist. Maybe one of the wenches? If he closed his eyes?

     The next rock skipped eight times. Better.

     “Hey! Who threw that rock?” A shout of surprise echoed off the water.

     The remaining rocks fell from his fingers. The early fall day sent shafts of dying light through the trees. The water only reflected the broken sunlight back to him.

     “You there! Did you see the demon who tried to kill me?”

     Dorian shaded his eyes and finally the sun cooperated by dropping behind some clouds blowing along the horizon. Out of the water rising like a god from a golden pond was the Inquisitor. Wet hair hung in tight ringlets around his face. Water dripped off his naked body. Sluicing down his lightly furred chest to catch in a patch of burnished copper hair and dripping off the end of…

_“Maker.”_

     Then he laughed and suddenly Dorian wanted nothing more in the world than to hear that laugh again. Dorian's eyes were just traveling back up the long shapely muscled legs and imagining what it would be like to have them wrapped tightly around his body.

     His golden man spoke again. “Hardly that, although some insist I’m the Herald of Andraste, which I cannot condone… Are you alright?”

     “You’re bleeding!” Dorian countered and yanked his eyes away from the Inquisitor's nakedness.

     “Well, yes," he said laughing and using water to clean his bleeding forehead. "Someone was carelessly throwing rocks and one of them hit me. The force of it almost knocked me out.” He shrugged, “I’m the only one around here with this green power thing in my hand. Drowning would certainly take the wind out of the Close the Breach Campaign.”

     “I can stop the bleeding, Inquisitor.”

     “Can you?” The man ducked away from the mage’s hands. “Should I trust you? I strongly suspect you are the one who threw the rock. Perhaps you're a demon come to kill me or pull me into the Fade for all time?”

      _Andraste’s tits_ , he had to get away from this man. This golden man with a sense of humor and easy manner.

     “Or perhaps you were just like me, looking for a way to find some quiet away from all the distractions at the Keep.”

     Dorian couldn't deny that. “You've caught me out, sir. Out here clearing my head. Skipping rocks is one of a few pleasant childhood memories." The mage made a slight bow. "I apologize, Inquisitor.” He’d just apologized!. He never apologized. This entire situation was going from bad to horrific. “Inquisitor, surely you didn’t walk from the Keep dressed like… or not dressed. May I walk you back to...?”

      _Maker’s sake, say yes before I drop to my knees before you._

     The Inquisitor studied the mage while he decided. Mages weren’t normally so jittery. This one, and he knew because he’d asked, was a powerful mage from an important family in Tevinter. Eyes everywhere but on his face and he’d swear he saw a blush stain the tanned skin.

     “Please, do. I'm happy for the company,” he said indicating the direction with his hand. My clothes are just up the path.”

     A mistake. This was a mistake. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the man’s cock bounce from one thigh to the other as he walked confidently bare-footed through the forest. He seemed completely unaware of his nakedness and his beauty.

     “You have my thanks. I should know better than to walk…”

     They both stopped at a something. Was it a sound, or movement in the trees? Birds roosting? They felt the bear’s breath on their neck before it made a sound. Smelled the sour wet-fur scent before it leaps from the cliff edge. The scratch of claws on stone. Dorian whirled, knocking the Inquisitor to the side. His staff poised horizontal across his body ready for battle. The great brown bear roared its victory cry. Her cubs would eat well tonight, very well indeed. The dark one waved its stick at her. The charge singed her fur, but she felt nothing. Such a puny thing.

     Rearing up on her hind legs she came down on the dark one intending to crush it with her body. The end would come quickly for it once she sank her teeth into the thin neck. Instead he rolled away and crashed through some low bushes.

     “Dorian! I have my sword.”

     "Hold, Inquisitor!" Was the man actually intending to jump naked into a fight with a bear? With the sword arching around his naked body, the man had no protection from the bears paws or teeth. He might connect with the thick fur and hide, but Dorian knew it would do little damage unless he hit a weak spot on her body. There was no time for that. 

     The mage jumped to his feet, blasting the bear repeatedly as he marched steadily toward her. Green power burned her fur and sliced open her snout. A gout of blood sprouted, blinding her for a moment, but she pawed it effortlessly away from her eyes and nose. He had to get the bear down before the Inquisitor tried anything stupid. Dorian felt himself weakening. Just a little longer and the bear would go down. Sucking air into his burning chest, he forced himself to keep going. The stakes were too high to lose this fight.

     The Inquisitor and the enraged bear charged at the same time. Shouting a battle cry his golden man swung his broadsword over his head and ran toward the bear.

     He wasn’t worth saving, but the Inquisitor was. The cities and villages needed him to close the Rift. Just as his golden man leaps in the air, poised to strike downward on the bear, Dorian sent a bolt of energy from his staff. The force of it dropped him to his knees and left him gasping and struggling to find his feet.

     Both blows struck the bear at the same time and knocked her feet from under her. Pawing the air and screaming her rage she fell backwards down the low hill ripping a path through the brush, toward the exhausted mage.

     "Dorian, move!"

     Dorian tried not to scream when her claws bit deeply into his chest when she flexed her great paws with a last breath. Managed to keep his face away from the great gnashing teeth. Tried his best to keep breathing despite the entire weight of a great brown bear crushing his chest and legs.

He felt her die, knew when her great fierce heart stopped beating. He wondered if his golden man had survived and how long he could hold out before he followed the bear into the darkness. Dorian Pavus of Tevinter closed his eyes and filled his thoughts with the beautiful golden man whose name he didn't even know.


	3. Strangers in the Night

* * *

     The Inquisitor’s broadsword swung true, lodging itself deep in her neck. His arms trembled with the force of the blow as he watched her life’s blood stain his blade. She was dying, but the momentum, of her weight and speed, pushed her passed him ripping the hilt from his hands. Although he has just enough time to leap out of her way, he must watch helplessly as the bear and Dorian go together to the bottom of the ravine.

     “Dorian!” The Inquisitor yanked on his pants and boots as he ran toward the mage. Sliding to a stop, he landed on his knees next to the bear. A hand, black hair and a pool of blood were all he could see of the man. How in the Maker’s name would he move Dorian from under this monster?

     “Hang on!” 

     After searching quickly, the Inquisitor located a stout tree limb. Dragging it back to the ravine, the Inquisitor shouted, "Dorian! Don’t you dare die!"

     Jamming it under the huge animal gained him enough leverage to uncover the mage’s body. Sweat poured off his naked back as he tried twice to push hard enough to move the bear. Although he was rewarded with the sound of Dorian’s moans of pain it took him three more tries to push the giant animal on its side.

     Dark and exotic like the strange animals his father collected. The mage fairly shimmered with power, moved like a sleek cat and handsome as he was mysterious.The bear aside, the Inquisitor found it impossible to believe the mage could be alive. The once powerful man lay like a broken doll in the dust and debris of the ravine. Flat on his back his eyes were open and staring into the sky. The wound in his chest a gory stew of splintered bone and torn flesh. He breathed in short gasps, with his fists clenching. His left leg lay at an odd angle. The Inquisitor almost groaned when he noticed the broken leg. Broken bones were difficult to heal and almost always took an infection. 

     He knew instinctively, the mage would not wish to die like this. Also, correct to imagine this mage would rather be dead than a cripple. Judging by the injuries and their distance from town, that's exactly what would happen. This brave man was dying and it was his fault. He should never have come out here alone, wasted time flirting, or failed to recognize this man as the one who warned them of the attack on Haven. If not for his courage well, that thought didn't need to see the light of day.

     “Altus?”

     A bleeding hand grasped his forearm. Light green eyes blinked open and focused on him. “No titles. Not now. Tell me your name... golden one. Don’t let me die here without knowing at least your name.”

     The Inquisitor pulled his arm back to clasp the mage’s fingers. “It’s Jaiden. My name is Jaiden Edouard. I’m sorry.”

     “No, no apologies required.” Dorian began to cough. Jaiden lifted and turned him so he could clear his throat and breath easier. The coughing left a line of bloody phlegm on the ground.

     “Maker, why now?” Dorian gasped and fell back into arms waiting to embrace him.

     Jaiden swallowed hard and cursed his lack of ability to help this man. Too far away from Haven to shout for help, all he could do was keep the mage talking and stay until the end. It was the least he could do. He'd already done the worst.

     "Tell me, what do you mean by that. 'Why now’”

     “Why am I meeting a man like you at the moment of my death? I would have tried to prove myself worthy…” Dorian clamped down on a sob, but the tears slipped down the sides of his face.

     “Dorian. Listen to me. You have me now. I won't leave you.”

     “That was a dangerous game we played back there. Yes? We behaved quite like children.”

     “I know and I am to blame.” Jaiden smoothed back the thick dark hair from Dorian’s brow.

     “Jaiden. I like that name. Very upper-class Tevinter.”

     “I’m from nowhere near Tevinter, Mage.” Jaiden said and forced a smile. He imaged this man more at home in grand ballrooms and fine tables than dying dirty and broken in a ravine

     “I imagine not, or we would have met. Then again, I haven’t been home in many years. I-I’m sorry I can’t ask you more about yourself,” Dorian choked over his words, laboring to force them out over a throat filling with blood. He tried to laugh, but only succeeded in coughing up more blood. “How very odd it is to feel oneself dying, when the world around me seems so alive."

     Dorian's arms flung wide as if he were suddenly blind. "Jaiden!"

     "I'm here, Mage. I'm right here."

     "Damn odd, there is so much I wish to discuss with you. But that moment is passing. Farewell...I expect great things from you, Inquis...”

     The mage's fingers went slack in his hand.

     “Dorian…? Dorian!”

 

~o0o~

 

     The first time he woke, he was very rude to the servant. “Get me a pot, boy! Or do you expect me to piss the bed?”

     The servant didn’t speak, no doubt intimidated by the Tevinter name. That never hurt. He did help the mage to roll to his side and aim at the chamber pot. Emptying his bladder felt so good, he didn't question his surroundings or that a total stranger had just touched him intimately. One had to learn to trust servants to do their job. Dorian simply fell back and closed his eyes with a sigh.

     The second time he woke up he was so hungry, it felt like his stomach was gnawing at his backbone. 

     “Boy! Food!” he shouted, or at least thought he shouted. The voice and the man were so heavily drugged he couldn’t focus on anything or shout in more than a whisper. And what was damnable thing on his left leg? There was not an inch of him that wasn’t bound by stinking poultices. Arms lifted him and helped him sip the broth from a bowl of fragrant venison stew.

     “Water, as well.”

     The servant silently held a cup to Dorian’s mouth and let him take small sips. Before he fell back on the pillows, he waved his hand. “You do fine work. You shall be rewarded…” 

     This time before Dorian fell back to sleep, he relieved himself and with a little less help than he required before. The servant wiped his upper body and face down with a cool cloth and covered him with a sheet to ward off any chill on this warm night.

     The third time he woke, the room was dark and cold. Very close to him someone was snoring. The impudence! Dorian forced himself awake. He would take charge around here now. Falling asleep on duty. Why, his father would have the boy’s hide for this. The mage turned over and tried to sit up, he gasped when pain shot through him, forcing him to let himself fall back.

     The mattress dipped and Dorian felt rather than heard someone coming around the side of the bed. Gentle hands touched the side of his face.

     “Lie still.”

     But Dorian was having none of it. “How dare you? You think you can snore your duties away and pretend as if nothing has occurred?”

    “Open your eyes, Mage.”

     Fingers carded through his hair. That felt so good, he leaned into the hand.

     “Dorian?”

     Someone is calling his name. Wasn’t he dead? Yes, of course, he was dead. Nothing to be done about that now. Oh, yes, that’s right, there was a bear and a naked man with a broadsword. Fascinating metaphor. Really, I man ought to be left to his peace when he's dead.

     “Solas says you’ve slept long enough. He’s chased you out of the Fade twice now. Open your eyes. For Maker's sake..." Jaiden's voice dropped to an urgent whisper, "and mine, gaze upon me again with your mysterious dark eyes."

     “Mysterious, eh? Well, I don’t know if I will or I won’t. You could be some demon come to take me back there. I’m not a nice man. Perhaps it’s my fate. I’m sure my father would agree.”

     A warm mouth caressed his cheek. “Let me be the judge of that, Dorian Pavus of Tevinter.”

     The mage’s eyes popped open as reaction surged through him. Maker’s breath, he was alive! Although he struggled to sit up, insistent hands held him down. When he could focus his eyes he was looking directly into the dark blue eyes of the Inquisitor. His first thought was they were more beautiful then he remembered.

     His second, that it was the Inquisitor who had taken care of him while he somehow had recovered from the bear attack. Mortified beyond words, he began to simply sputter his objections. “Inquisitor. I demand... take me to the Chantry. This is… You shouldn’t have… I…” Dorian’s shame grew as he remembered calling him a boy and allowing him to help him…piss. He actually groaned and this time it wasn’t from pain. “Sir, I demand to be allowed out of this bed. Immediately!” Another fit of coughing landed him on his back. 

     Jaiden ignored the outburst and took a square of linen to wipe Dorian’s mouth. “Maker be praised. Look, Dorian. No more blood.”

     The smile that accompanied the remark took Dorian’s breath away. It was a smile as bright as the sun and lite him from within. Was there no end to the temptations of this man? When the mage found his voice he continued his rant.

     “I have no right to be here. Have the servants carry me if they must. But I insist to be taken from here.”

     “And what will happen then, Mage? Those zealots will undo all my hard work, toss you in the corner and take bets on how long it will take you to die.”

     “Zealots? I like the sound of a good heresy. But, debts… never good… sleepy. W-what have you done?”

     “The last of that soup was drugged, Dorian. Now sleep and don’t worry.”

     “Jaiden?”

     “I’m right here, Mage.”

     “W-why do most people… when they say mage...like spitting on the ground. When you say...like a caress?”

     The Inquisitor didn’t respond until he was sure Dorian was asleep. “I don’t know. Something about you. I found I could not let you die.”


	4. Unspeakable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NOTE: Well, I'm not really sure I got what I wanted with this chapter and it gets a bit dark. Good manners suggest I provide trigger warnings. Child abuse, both sexual and physical are in this chapter. Personally, I didn’t like the look of Dorian’s father. Creepy and spooky.

* * *

“I am an unspeakable of the Oscar Wilde sort.” ― E.M. Forster, Maurice

* * *

     The sun had long since giving way to the insistent storm clouds so that darkness fell early. The Inquisitor stood at the window watching the storm roll in across the mountains. Perhaps tonight the town might finally see some rain. That would make the farmers happy. Then tomorrow they would fight, because the battle would come no matter the weather, in thick mud and freezing rain. Then in a week or two soldiers would begin to sicken…

     Jaiden stopped his thoughts with a shake of his head. He was melancholy tonight but could not name the source. Restless in a way he could not resolve with exercise, a book, or thoughts of battle. He knew many of the men were at the tavern, drinking, and gaming. Those that could afford it purchased the favors of a woman. He wished them a good evening. Tomorrow many of them would not return home.

     Earlier Cullen invited him to supper and an evening of cards. The thought of enjoying the man's company made him smile. Before he could say yes, he noticed Cassandra's frown. By the look on her face she was not expecting to share Cullen’s attention, so he politely declined. He hadn’t realized they were together. A unworthy pang of envy twisted in him when he realized they must care for each other. How had he not seen that? He knew why. Because he knew love was not for him he'd stopped looking for it. Was that the source of his sadness?

     Behind him, lost in his drugged induced sleep, Dorian still snored quietly. At least one of them is at peace. Not that he wasn’t grateful to the Healer for his help with administering to Dorian’s injuries. The old man called the juice they used to drug the mage, by a word he’d never heard before. What was it again? Poppy juice? Yes, that was it. The man warned him to use it sparingly because it was addictive. Yet it was the only way to keep Dorian quiet enough to allow the spells to mend his bones.

     In spite of the melancholy, he acknowledged the serenity of sharing this room with Dorian. How tranquil it seemed here, by the fire watching over him while he slept. The Inquisitor poured himself a cup of the local red wine, dark and rich, enough of it often helped him sleep. Without it, the dreams of dying soldiers and demons filled his sleeping mind with images too dark to contemplate in the light of day and too terrifying to face at night. Perhaps a drop of the poppy juice in his wine might help him sleep tonight. Just one small drop?

     He should be content. He should feel honored to have been chosen as someone strong enough to close the Breach and set things right. That he'd actually been their third choice, bothered him some. In truth, the role of Inquisitor provided him the way to discover his own path and continue avoiding what waited for him at home in Thedas. He loved his home in the Free Marches and enjoyed every season of his childhood. He'd learned how to behave in the company of men. Spent hours in his father’s library absorbing the information in the dusty old tomes. Learned to hunt, wield a sword, ride a horse and understand his role as a nobleman of the Trevelyan family of Ostwick.

     His mother had often reminded him that nobility had duties and expectations, which society placed on them. He understood the expectation and the responsibility. Someday all that would fall to him and there would be a wife and children. And many years from now he would die a happy old man in his bed with his children and grandchildren all around.

     Something happened to him the summer of his fifteenth year that changed his world forever.

     Movement from the bed drew Jaiden to the sleeping mage. With just enough room for him to sit next to him, Jaiden joined him on the mattress. A dark lock of hair fell over Dorian’s eyes. Jaiden wanted to touch it, move it, and bury his nose in it.

     And hadn't that been exactly what the Templar had said to him that night a decade ago? When the evil smelly old man cornered him in the library. ‘How golden you are, young man.' He'd whispered to him with his stinking breath. 'I’ll wager your skin is warm to the touch of my fingers and the scent of your hair like spring…’

     The memory came unbidden and so suddenly it caused his hand to shake hard enough to spill the wine. Would the memories ever let him go?

     Dorian’s movements grew more agitated, yet he was obviously deeply asleep. Suddenly he swung his arm wide and Jaiden managed to catch it. The mage began to move restlessly, his brow creasing with anxiety. Jaiden put the cup down and placed his hands on the mage’s shoulders.

     “Shhh, Dorian. You’re perfectly safe here. Be still.”

     The mage began speaking. His voice no longer the tone of a man full grown, but a frightened child or young man.

_"No, no, no! I will not marry…her!"_

     “You’re safe here with me, Dorian. Do not despair.”

_How many times must I say it! I cannot be… what you want me to be. You cannot beat this out of me, Father. No matter how many times…you hit me. Please, father.  Please, not the strap again._

     “Dorian, please be still.”

_Haven’t I done everything else you expected…? Why can’t you be proud of me…?_

     “Please,” he pleaded. He could not hear any more of this. “Mage, I beg you! Be still and quiet.”

_Did you see the spell I learned today? Father? What are they saying? Why blood magic? You would use... it on me? Why, Father. Why?”_

     Fresh blood soaked the bandage on his shoulder marking Jaiden’s hand with its sticky warmth.

     In his delirium, Dorian neither knew nor cared what Jaiden heard. Finally, with his hand pressed against the shoulder bandage to staunch the flow of fresh blood, Jaiden simply laid himself across the mage to hold him still. But Dorian could not throw off the night terrors that held him in their grip.

     Throughout the night, Jaiden alternately used melted snow to cool the fever and held him still while the fever-fed dreams took their time with him. His heart broke for the mage who spoke such unhappiness. Jaiden understood. He knew what it felt like for a small boy to have his heart broken with no one to fix it. No one to explain. No one to hold you tight enough to banish the memories. Shortly before dawn the mage finally settled into real sleep. Exhausted, Jaiden passed out, draped across the mage’s chest. He promised himself he would never let Dorian know what he learned tonight.

     A sliver of morning sun found its way to Dorian to wake him. Before opening his eyes, Dorian explored the strange weight across his body with his hands. It was Jaiden and he was asleep. He took the opportunity to stroke the golden curls. The handsome face lay within his reach. If they spent the night together then surely it was acceptable to kiss the smooth forehead, to touch the lips with his fingertips. The bed smelled of sweat and men. The mage breathed it in, his heart swelled.

     “Golden one, you confound me this morning. Tell me about our first night together. Did you take advantage of my injuries? A delicious thought, indeed. I feel well rested and exhausted at the same time. What have you done to me? Wake up, my golden one and share the memories.”

      Jaiden woke abruptly to the sensation of hands in his hair and a voice whispering in his ear. Hands pulled at his face, trying to turn him. He knew what would happen next.

    "Tell me golden one."

     Before he was really awake, Jaiden pulled himself off the bed and away from the man, the memory and the nightmare.

    "Jaiden? Wait. Where are you going?"

     “Don’t ever call me that again. _Damn you!_ ” The Inquisitor raced out the door, pulling on his clothes as he went. In the yard, he called for his horse and shouted orders. Yanking his armor on piece by piece while the groom nervously brought up the horse.

     “Cullen! Have the sergeants get the men up. It’s time to move out. When I ride out there had better be soldiers behind me!”

     While the Inquisitor allowed the soldiers a few minutes to muster, he made a quick trip to the tavern. Tossing a handful of coins to the Innkeeper, most of which scattered across the bar. The Innkeeper nodded at the growled orders.

     “See to it. Why are you standing there gaping at me?”

     When the door slammed behind him, the man turned to the questioning eyes of his wife and shrugged his shoulders. “You heard him woman, see to it.”

     Above the yard, trapped in a bed soaked with the sweat of fever and sickness, Dorian the Altus Mage lay staring up at the ceiling and wondering at the madness he’d just witnessed. Maker’s toenails, he needed to get out of this bed and get to Jaiden. What had happened? What had he misunderstood?

     The door opened again. He's come back. “Jaiden!”

     For the second time this morning he's profoundly confused. Standing in the doorway is an old woman with her arms full of towels and fresh linens. A bucket of water sloshed when she dropped it on the floor. Her seamed face split into a wide grin and displayed her rotten teeth.

     “I’m here’ta bath ya, Mage.”

* * *

 


	5. Are We There Yet?

Cassandra’s horse stumbled in the thick mud. She’s an expert rider, but three feet of mud, driving rain and a slave master of an Inquisitor took its toll on all of them. Cursing a stream of icy breath, she gave the exhausted horse a chance to right itself. The grateful horse snorted and shook out his wet coat.

“Varric!” Cassandra shouted to the dwarf, as he pulled up alongside her. ”What is up the Inquisitor’s ass today? We will kill ourselves out here, and we’ve hardly bloodied our weapons.”

The dwarf raised his shoulders with what he hoped was an innocent response. Because he did know. But it was not his story to tell. The simple answer was one word, and that word was Dorian. The complicated answer, after which, a discussion would follow about protocol, subordinates, and the jealousy she would try in vain to hide from him. Yes, because he knew that story too. No, the best thing to do was keep his mouth shut.

He had to say something though. Maker forbid if she thought he’d ignored her. “Loosen up the damn reins, woman. Let him pick his way through this mess.”

“Don’t tell me how to handle a horse, dwarf!”

What was it about these humans? Fight by your side; share a drink and a good story. Save you from a toss-the-dwarf contest and carry you home afterward, but when they got angry, it was always back to ‘dwarf’.

No one really appreciated dwarves. That was okay most of the time. Being overlooked wasn’t always a bad thing. It had its uses. What she obviously needed was a good… Poor Cullen. By the tension on her face and simmering anger, he must not be giving her what she needed.

“Let’s go, Cassandra! Next time we’re in town I’ll introduce you to Drogon!”

“What are you ranting about?” She shouted peering at him through the rain.

The dwarf pulled the reins, causing his horse to rear. “Just one of my two best friends,” he shouted with a lecherous grin. “There’s Bianca and then there’s Drogon.” The dwarf grabbed his crotch suggestively.

The look on her face when she finally got it was a joy to watch.

“Maker take you!”

“Such language from a pious lady like yourself.” She reacted predictably, urging her horse toward him. The Inquisitor was yelling for them to hurry up. Laughing all the way, Varric allowed Cassandra to chase him to the head of the battalion.

“What are you two playing at back there? The Inquisitor’s words ground out in fury. Exhaustion has written itself into every line of his face.

They’d been out in the open for two weeks. Two weeks of rain and freezing nights under the stars. In all those days, they spent only two in a real camp. Varric pulled his horse close to the Inquisitor.

“Cassandra’s horse pulled a shoe back there in the mud.” It could be true. He really didn’t know for certain, but it could be true. When the Inquisitor didn’t respond he went on. “Two weeks, Inquisitor. We’ve been out here two weeks.” Then Varric went one comment over the line. “You’ve broken your own record for closing Rifts.”

Here it comes…

“Mind your place, dwarf.”

“I mind my place, Inquisitor. We’re exhausted. The mission is a success. We’ve good Intel to bring to the War Council. We’re almost out of food and you have unfinished business in Haven.”

The Inquisitor’s hand fell to the broadsword. "You go too far, Varric."

Varric watched him wrap his fingers around the hilt with a grip meant to crush. “Yet, you know I’m right.”

The two men watched each other over the hilt of the broadsword. When Varric saw the Inquisitor's chest rise and fall, he lowered his voice and spoke again. “We all have ghosts, Inquisitor. If there’s someone, even for a short time, to keep them at bay, isn't it worth it?”

To Varric’s relief the Inquisitor’s face finally cleared. When the man put out his hand to Varric, he took it without hesitation.

“My name is Jaiden, thank you.”

The Inquisitor gathered himself and signaled the soldiers to form up.

Two days and two sleepless nights later, they were finally in sight of Haven’s gates. Jaiden pulled his horse up to allow the soldiers to enter ahead of him. Motionless on the fidgeting stallion watching the soldiers file in, his body thrummed with anticipation. He could hear those already making plans for the evening. Impatient to follow the other horses to food and warmth the black horse bounced on his front feet. However, Jaiden wasn't ready to face the man waiting for him inside the Keep. Varric had said something about ghosts. Yes, there were plenty of ghosts. He’d just spent almost three weeks fleeing from his own, only to find the same sort of monster waiting for him in the North. Those monsters he could do something about and vanquish to the Fade. He did not know what to do about the mage recovering in his bed.

With signs of spring everywhere, Haven offered him warmth and light. Farmers showed off bountiful harvest displaying fresh fruits and vegetables in wooden stalls along the main path. Jaiden pulled in a deep breath of warm fragrant air. And inside his room, dark eyes and gentle hands waited for him. Did they still wait for him, or had Dorian taken him for the fool he was and turned elsewhere?

Jaiden dug his spurs into the horse’s flanks.

“Dorian!” Inside his rooms, he found a clean bedchamber, an empty bed, with none of the trappings of sickness. He’d just ordered a hundred men to their deaths, regularly put his companions in mortal danger, but this man… this one man…Panic bubbled, "Dorian!"

“Stop yer shout’n, he’s not here,” the tavern’s wife walked out of the back room with Dorian’s leather armor in her arms.

“Where is he? Is he…?”

“Dead?” the woman laughed, revealing her rotten teeth. “Not while I’m takin’ care of him he ain’t. Sent him down to the lake to get some exercise. Best thing for ‘em.”

Jaiden ran back out the door and grabbed the reins from a startled groom. The guards managed to get the gate open just as the Inquisitor charged through them. Down the path and through the trees he pushed the horse. Jaiden began to hear small sounds of something… magic? Spells being cast? What was it? Dorian trying to catch fish with magic? The thought, made him laugh with relief.

There he was with his back against a tree by the water’s edge. Dressed in a pair of simple leather pants and an open shirt. Soft shoes instead of boots covered his feet. Against the tree was a crutch made from wood. Had he really walked out here on his own?

The horse whinnied when Jaiden slid the horse to a stop beside the mage.

“You're scaring the fish, Inquisitor.”

“Are you alright?”

“Well, of course, I’m alright. Better than all right. I’m handsome, well educated and a top-notch mage. Just one or two immediate problems.”

“May I help?” Jaiden said because he couldn't think of anything else to say. Relief had him light-headed.

“First, my dear Inquisitor, even when we are old and gray, I will still won't forgive you for siccing that old woman on me. She’s been a witch, no a bear… worse than that old sow we brought down.”

“That’s one." _Even when we’re old and gray?_ Jaiden caught his breath,"What’s the second?”

“Well, to be precise there are two more problems.”

“I’m listening.”

“The old bear believes swimming will strengthen my weakened muscles and two, I’m sure I look a fright after two weeks without a shave. However, my right arm is not strong enough to control the razor. I’m seriously worried about cutting my own throat. Now, how would that look?”

Jaiden knelt next to Dorian, “Why aren’t you swimming? It’s a fine day for it.”

“Speaking of looking a fright. How long have you been in that armor? You stink like yonder goat.”

“Almost three weeks. Don’t change the subject.”

“As long as I am the subject of concern, certainly, not." Dorian let out a long sigh. "I’m not swimming because… well, because… It’s just not the done thing where I come from. Mages swimming? Indeed, not. Very déclassé you know.”

Dorian resisted the impulse to glance up when he heard the buckles on Jaiden’s armor release. The pauldrons and cuirass fell to the ground next to him. The sword and buckler followed. Gloves landed on top.

“You should bath, Inquisitor. They won’t even allow you in the tavern like that. I can just imagine Cullen’s nose turning up at…”

“Cullen is not here, Mage.”

“No, he isn’t. Seems we are quite alone.”

The Inquisitor toed off his boots.

“You just go ahead and take your bath." Dorian waived him away. "Use this sliver of soap I stole from the old woman. I’ll just sit here and read my book.”

“Shave before or after your swimming lesson?”

“Swimming lesson, are you mad?”

The Inquisitor knelt down again wearing nothing more than his linens. “I already know I can carry you, Mage.”

“Maker’s breath, you didn’t.”

“How else do you think you made it back to Haven alive? The guards did help me once we arrived at the gates.”

“I suppose I have that to thank you for, as well. Saving my life and all that…” The mage waved his hands as if dismissing the entire event. Until the shoes were removed from his feet, and the book tossed aside.

“Now see here. I'm a Tevinter. My father..."

"You hate your father. Or, at least you think you do." Perhaps he shouldn't have let that slip out. To cover the error he reached toward the Mage.

Dorian felt arms sliding under his legs, and suddenly he’s in Jaiden’s arms and carried to the water’s edge.

“What if I asked you to save my life?” Jaiden asked his eyes focused on the far shore.

Ah, now we were getting somewhere. Dorian twined his arms around Jaiden’s neck. “Playing against type can be fun,” he said softly and pressed his nose against Jaiden’s cheek. Then his voice turned serious. “Jaiden, listen to me." The Mage waited until Jaiden turned his head, but his eyes were misty and focused to some far off place only he could see. "I made a mistake that morning. Whatever the reason. I won’t push you again. Have no fear in that regard.”

Jaiden dropped the mage in the water. To stop him from thrashing around and possibly reinjuring himself, Jaiden caught him by the forearms and lifted him to his feet. He pushed the dark hair out of his face and wiped the water away. “Can you stand on your legs in this depth of water?”

“Yes. And Maker it feels good to be on my own two feet again. Point taken, by the way.”

“Good. Then let’s try walking for a distance.” With one arm around his waist and the other holding his arm, he walked Dorian through the chest deep water. After walking silently for about an hour, Dorian ventured a question.

“Someone hurt you, Jaiden?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s everything.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Damn you!” Jaiden yanked hard on the thick black hair and used it to pulled Dorian’s head back.

“Quite possibly and as close as you hold me Inquisitor, I think we are twice damned." Then with a sparkle in his eyes, he said, "Lead the way."

Jaiden silenced the impudent mage by covering his mouth with his own. He hadn’t actually meant to kiss him. Was that what was happening? He only meant to shut him up. Maker, he was losing himself.

And hadn’t this been what kept him awake night after night under the stars. Thoughts of Dorian smiling at him with trust in his eyes and taking the time to understand him drove Jaiden to a hidden grove one night. With his back against a stout oak, he tried to will the pain of desire away. His body would not obey. Dorian the mage haunted him. The wit and dark mystery, contrasted with his own fair complexion and plainspoken manner. Fair skin against the dark muscled limbs and chest. Strength to match strength, muscle on muscle, and belly to belly… _Beautiful Mage_ …

When the moon had fallen behind the mountains, and even the forest was quite, Jaiden’s hands found their way inside his linen and, in pleasure and guilty pain, brought himself to orgasm. The power of it and the force of his desire dropped him to his knees while he ejaculated helplessly into the dewy grass.

Dorian brought him back to the present by slipping his arms inside his linen shirt to his bare chest. Long fingered hands felt their way around to his back, closing around his shoulder blades to hold him in place.

Jaiden opened his mouth at the insistence of Dorian’s tongue. The mage’s response was to allow his injured leg to float up between Jaiden’s legs and card his fingers into the dirty golden curls. Before he completely lost himself, Dorian softened his embrace and allowed his lips to travel over Jaiden’s cheek and neck, and then resting his forehead on Jaiden’s chest, Dorian worked the soap in his hands. Without asking, he slowly and carefully began working his hands over the Inquisitor’s chest.

At the slippery feel of strong hands and long fingers stroking his flesh, the mage's name came out of Jaiden’s mouth in one long breath. Then, “You must stop.”

“Only you can stop this with the simple touch of your hands.”

When Dorian’s fingers slipped into his armpits, the man’s hands floated to Dorian’s waist and settled. Jaiden sucked in a lungful of air when Dorian moved his hands over his shoulders to smooth the tight neck muscles and corded shoulders. His fingers glided up the back of Jaiden’s neck and over his ears gently washing as he went. Deciding he would save his hair for last, Dorian allowed his hands to lightly caress the Inquisitor’s bottom. Each time his hands circled the muscular globes his fingers spread a little wider and reached a little deeper. He repeated the movement, by ghosting his fingers up the long back and down his spine to slip his fingertips between the sensitive cheeks. The third time Dorian’s fingertips reached between his legs, avoiding the tight bud, Jaiden let out a shivering moan and fell against Dorian.

Dorian arched against the feel of the erection suddenly pressed into his belly. Jaiden jerked the Mage’s chin up and captured him in another kiss.

“No... This is.... Don’t. Stop.”

Instinct warned him not to touch the rigid cock pressed into his belly. So he kept moving his hands over his shoulders and down his chest, only stopping and moving his hands to shy away just when he reached the man’s waist. Then down the back of his legs and back up the front.

“Dorian…”

“Stay with me…” Dorian reached up to Jaiden’s face and invited him to share another kiss. Jaiden was too far gone to respond. Maker. Dorian wanted to kiss the chest under his cheek, cup the tight balls in his hand, and run his fingers along the pulsing ridgeline of his cock. The mage experimentally shifted his torso against the Inquisitor. Jaiden reacted immediately by pushing rhythmically. He was close. So very close and Dorian simply held him steady while allowing Jaiden to set the pace.

“ _Dorian._ I…” Suddenly, strong warrior hands gripped his biceps and Jaiden buried his face in Dorian’s neck. With keening cry that shook both men, Jaiden’s orgasm hammered against Dorian’s torso.

* * *

Drogon. _Game of Thrones_. A black-red dragon, recently hatched by Daenerys Targayen. It is the largest and most vicious of her three dragons.


	6. Doing My Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changed the in game story a bit. And many thanks and virtual hugs to the readers. I'm so happy you're enjoying the story. Feedback, corrections and or questions are always welcome.

* * *

“At times he entertained the dream. Two men can defy the world.” ― E.M. Foster

* * *

     While Jaiden calmed down Dorian stayed still and silent in the circle of the man's arms. If Jaiden would just keep his head resting on his shoulder he would hold still for as long as Jaiden required. Was Jaiden as devastated as he over the power of what just happened? It wasn't the first time he'd played in the water or bathed another man, but it was the first time he hadn't impatiently waited for his turn. Or wondered if the man were skilled enough to give Dorian a moment of something special. The mage prided himself on being thorough and if he cared to admit it, he was also generous. Sometimes all that got him was quick stroke or two without even a by-your-leave.

     The moment ended when the man lifted his head. Dorian released him immediately and for once in his life kept his mouth shut. Jaiden as not ready for more and he knew it. The tight leather pants held his desire at bay, so Jaiden wasn't even aware of it. That was good, but how Dorian longed to share it with him. His entire body bowed with need. This was not the time and he knew it. But the need to reciprocate, to offer comfort and sooth away the fear nearly overwhelmed his common sense and left him shaking with unslaked desire. Jaiden stirred finally and without looking at him, reached for the soap, the mage broke it in half and kept half for himself. Without a word, Jaiden dove into the water and surfaced several yards away. The mage watched him scrub his hair clean and dive again. This was all quite unexpected and Dorian really didn’t care for anything that was outside of his control. The man put feelings into his heart, which near intoxicated him with their power. No one took power over Dorian the Altus Mage.

     After he’d finished bathing and working his arm and leg in the water, Dorian found Jaiden on his back on a grassy spot in the sun. With his arm over his eyes, the Inquisitor appeared asleep, at least peaceful, or at the very least still. If the sight of this man with his soaked linen stuck to his skin was the sexiest thing he’d ever witnessed, and Dorian had seen more than his share of eroticism, he managed to keep quiet about it.

     “Please don’t stare at me.”

     “Apologies, Inquisitor. May I join you? The exercise left me aching and tired.”

     The Inquisitor waved his hand absently, indicating the Mage to join him. “Here, I picked these up at the market,” he said and handed Dorian a large red apple.

     They enjoyed their apples in silence, watching the birds dive over the water and small animals come down to the shore and drink.

     After a few minutes, Dorian ventured, “Thank you for this time, the apple, and your company."

     "Yes, it's been... enjoyable. I should go back." The Inquisitor rolled to a sitting position.

     "Jaiden, wait. I wish to say something. Where I come from, when men come together for sex, it’s for mutual pleasure. There is no promise of…anything, except that moment. Most of these men have wives and families, so there is no question, of a relationship or even simple friendship.” Dorian laughed a lonely hollow sound. “We are far too competitive for something as simple as friendship. I can certainly admit no one was ever thoughtful enough to bring an apple to share with me. Yet, such is the world, where I grew up.”

     Jaiden tossed his apple core into the water and looked up into Dorian’s face. “I appreciate your honesty… you. _Come here_.”

     The request widened Dorian’s eyes, but he complied by allowing Jaiden to pull him down. Dorian sighed in gratitude when Jaiden gave him something else he’d never experienced before. The Inquisitor pulled him close, with Dorian’s back to his chest and spooned himself around the mage.

     “How unique and comfortable. But you don’t have to...”

     “Be quiet, Mage. You need to rest your leg before we head back.”

     “Rather decent, I thought, for the bears to stay away this time out.”

     Jaiden pressed the Mages hand against his chest. “Shhh.”

     “Just one point, before you drift off to your post-coital nap. You mentioned something about my father. Wondered how you could possibly know anything—“

     —“Mage. Is there only one way to shut you up?”

     “Scientifically, speaking. Sorry, big word. You boys from Ostwick…”

     “One trial is not enough to form a theory?” The Inquisitor pushed Dorian to his back and leaned over him. “But two might do it?”

     “That’s not what I meant. To correct myself, scientifically speaking we have not practiced coitus. However, I understand now that you speak of kisses.”

     “So will two be enough?” Jaiden touched his lips teasingly to Dorian’s and pulled away.

     “I was thinking more along the lines of a lifeti…” Dorian said softly, not even sure he believed what he was even saying.

     “Yes,” Jaiden agreed, “I find myself thinking of what comes after.”

     This time the kiss Jaiden pressed against the mage’s mouth was anything but tentative. Equally, terrified and mesmerized by the brilliant young man sliding his tongue across his lips he ground his mouth against the Mage.

     “You still need a shave.”

     “Well, I did ask politely.”

     “Shut up…”

     “Shut up and kiss me? Tsk, tsk, such a cliché.”

     Odd lights in the sky distracted Jaiden’s attention from his intentions. Always, something more. Always another distraction, but he wanted to kiss him again. Press his mouth against the full lips and enjoy the incredible feeling of the warm brown skin against his. Earlier, when they were in the water together. Dorian had done an incredibly kind thing, not just by bathing him but giving him the time and space. Next time he would trust Dorian to touch him… he would beg Dorian to touch him.

     “What is that?” Jaiden looked around as he rose to his feet. Even the birds were quite. Between the trees, the lights were moving as if there were in the air. How was that possible?

     “The mountains, Inquisitor. There’s something moving along the mountain pass.”

     “Dorian, we must dress. Let me help you.”

     The warning knell from a ram’s horn shattered the quiet of their afternoon and they ran for the Inquisitor’s horse. Jaiden climbed aboard the fidgeting horse and reached down a hand to Dorian.

     “No, you go. We shouldn't be seen together like this… as if…”

     “Mage, I order you to mount this horse. We must go. There’s no time for this. I’ll drop you off a few yards from the gate. Now move!”

     Sliding up behind the Inquisitor, Dorian took the opportunity of wrapping his arms around the trim waist. This man! What was this? Before Jaiden kicked the horse forward, Dorian forced himself under Jaiden’s arm and made him twist toward him.

     “Jaiden, I don’t know what that threat is, but I do know...Yet,—Maker’s breath—I have no words for it. But know, I am with you.”

     The Inquisitor dropped the reins and wrapped the Mage in his arms.

     “We shall take the time to answer the questions that hang between us, Mage. I promise.”

     “And I hope you can keep that promise.”

     A power more complicated than simple lust drove their mouths together. Made them cling together before yet another situation when their lives could be taken from them unfolded. The kiss Jaiden dropped on the mage’s lips ravaged them both, leaving more questions than answers and only ended when the Ram’s horn blew again. It didn’t matter where he dropped the Mage off because Cullen and Cassandra were waiting at the gates for them. Fifty soldiers lined the path and scouted the woods watching for him.

     The Inquisitor leaps from the horse, shouting for someone to assist the Mage. “One of you gets him to the Inn Keeper’s wife, she’ll help him dress and get his staff. Thirty seconds,” he shouted at a servant.

     The Inquisitor’s page slid to a halt next to his master with his arms overflowing with armor. Jaiden began speaking while his page handed him his armor piece by piece. “Cullen give me a plan. Any plan! And can you tell what is coming down the mountain?”

     In the Keep the sounds of shouting and barking dogs added to the chaos outside where townspeople were beginning to panic. The sound of something banging on the door divided their attention. Before they could stop him the Inquisitor flung open the gates.

     It was the young man they’d met before. The odd mystical man named Cole. He stumbled through the gates and the Inquisitor caught him as he fell. "Just tired...Came to tell you… it’s the Red Templars. You, you… stole his mages. Calpernia… they are led by her… the Venatori. The Elder One comes for you…” 

     Cullen rounded on the Inquisitor, “Haven is no fortress. We have the trebuchets and what munitions we have stored. A siege either would leave us dead, slowly from starvation or quickly slaughtered. I chose to look my enemy in the eye.” Cullen scanned the horizon. He’d been a soldier all his life. “Let’s at least make them fight for it.”

     “There must be another way. We must get these people to safety. Then we can pick our way to die,” said with a glare at Cullen’s grandstanding. “But we must have more time.”

     “Inquisitor!” It was Dorian trotting up on a horse. He appeared strong and in control and Jaiden felt a moment of pride that unexpectedly warmed his heart and gave him the gift of renewed courage.

     “I can lead them out the way I came in. There’s a path.”

     “Dorian…”

     “You don’t need me here, Inquisitor. You’ll need those trebuchets and when you’re successful the town of Haven will disappear under snow and dead Templars.”

     “Dorian… wait.” Jaiden gripped the leather-clad calf.

     “I'll get them to Skyhold. We'll be waiting for you. Be safe, Jaiden... I shall miss our golden pond.”

     He wheeled his horse away from the Inquisitor and waved his Mage’s staff at the panicked townsfolk.

     “Follow me! Take only what you can carry. Do not deviate from the path.”

     With a last glance toward Jaiden, the mage spurred the animal toward the gates and freedom.

     “Inquisitor! We must make ready!”

     “When the last of them is out, close the gates. To the trebuchets!”

     But when they arrived, the creatures were already swarming over the walls.

* * *

 


	7. The Long and Winding Road

* * *

The long and winding road that leads to your door  
Will never disappear.  
I've seen that road before,  
It always leads me here, lead me your door”  
—Paul McCartney

* * *

     The march to the Frostback Mountains took the remainder of the summer. Dorian led a group of refugees, consisting of twenty children under the age of ten, one hundred adults, and eighteen elders. The party had begun with twenty elders, but they lost two of them on an icy bridge deep in a mountain pass. The children wept for hours after witnessing their grandparent’s fall screaming to their deaths. That had been a bad day. He’d allowed them to light small fires that night. Dorian stayed apart and watched them huddle around the light trying to keep their courage up. No one spoke of Haven or what happened or what might happen in the future. Each night when they made camp, before he dropped exhausted to his bedroll, Dorian remembered to thank the Maker for keeping them safe. Had he ever prayed this hard? Once as a child he remembered praying to the Maker to stop his father’s beatings. He’d apologized for being different and hoped he would understand he wasn’t trying to be bad. But it hadn’t changed anything. Perhaps his prayers were unworthy, after all his father told him everyday that he was bad, different and stubborn.

     These prayers were for the people of Haven and not for him, so perhaps this time he might be heard. When he finished his prayers, he kicked off his boots. Except for a quick scrub in a freezing lake or stream, that’s as undressed as he ever dared get. There were too many dangers on the road. Still dressed in his clothes, Dorian would wrap his arms around an extra blanket he found hug it to his chest and try to sleep.

     His body might be worn out, but his mind kept him awake with thoughts of the others. Were Jaiden and the other’s alive? Had they actually defeated the Red Templars, then forced to watch Haven destroyed? Would they make it to Skyhold? The thoughts tormented him, until finally when he was tired enough to convince himself he was holding Jaiden in his arms with his nose buried the golden hair could he sleep.

     Late one night, when the wind howled through the trees, a boy of about four and his older sister curled up next to him shivering. The little boy crept between them and Dorian managed to get his arm around both of them. The mage unrolled his extra blanket and covered them.

     “Are you warm now, little sister?” He’d asked softly tugging the edge of the blanket around her.

     “Yes, thank you, sir. Will Skyhold be warm and safe?”

     “Warm and safe, and you and your brother can help me tour the castle. We’ll find dungeons and stables and kitchens so full of food it will take us to the Winter Holidays to eat it all.”

   “Yes, I should like to sit in front of a fire with a cup of hot cider and a plate of gingerbread cookies.”

    “Then you shall have that," Dorian said wondering where he managed to find the words to comfort this child. We’ll start at the bottom of the castle and when we finally climb the stairs all the way to the top, we’ll find the Princess’s room.”

     “I bet it’s very pretty. Sir Pavus, if there isn’t a princess already living there, do you think I could have that room?”

     “I will be yours. But, My Lady, I’m not a ‘sir’.

     “If I’m to be a princess then I must have a knight. You keep us safe. You already are a knight. That's how it works,” she said airily as if he should know that already.

     “Then I am honored to fulfill that responsibility. May this humble knight know the princess's name?”

     “Heather, sir. My name is Heather and my brother’s name is Tom.”

     “Good night, Princess Heather.”

     Dorian sang a simple child’s song he remembered his mother singing to him. His eyes drifted shut while he watched her brother’s small hand patting his sister’s back. When the boy’s breath hitched, the mage pulled him closer and swallowed hot stubborn tears of his own.

     The next morning, one of the women handed him his meager breakfast of cold venison jerky and two-day-old biscuits. Dorian shared the meal with the two children

     “Thank you, Anna When we find the place to rest our heads, I shall cook us fresh battered bread, fried in oil and crowned with strawberries and whipped cream. Juice squeezed from oranges and scones. How does that sound, mistress?”

     “If you say it’s good, sir. I’ll believe you. I’m used to simple food. But if you cook it, I’ll try it,” she said with a shy smile.

     They chatted while he ate and from her, he learned three groups had departed during the night to join their families in other cities. With an aching heart, he wished them well because that was all he could do. They took only what they could carry and enough food for two days.

     “Is this the last of the ale, mistress?”

     “Yes, sir. It is.”

“Then here,” he handed it back to her. “Share it with your man.”

     Finally on a day when the sun found its way into the deepest mountain ravines, Skyhold rose above them from one of the highest peaks in the Frost Mountains. Her battlements gray with rimmed ice, stones tumbled as if a giant pulled down the walls. Overrun, so many times by opposing forces whatever style the stones and carved wood once sported was long gone. Obliterated by bored soldiers, raiders, and careless target practice.

     So little of the place still existed in the form of walls and roofs there were few places left to get out of the weather. More important that a few tumbled walls, they’d made it and as Dorian watched the people of Haven walk toward the gates, they pressed his arm or patted his shoulder as they walked passed him. Their courage and thanks filled his heart with a word he’d never learned. The feeling was there just the same, filling his eyes with moisture and closing his throat.

~o0o~

Almost two months to walk here and another month gone by since their arrival, they made good progress in rebuilding parts of the castle. Dorian followed his usual custom and walked through the bailey and along the battlements before turning in. The two guards in the keep signaled down to him that all was well. The blacksmith from Haven waved to Dorian as he passed.

“Fire hot?”

“Aye, sir. Andraste is with us I think, Sir Mage. The pit fired up just like she’d been waiting for us.”

     Tucked behind the stones of a fallen wall, the baker discovered the old bread ovens. With the flour they brought with them they had enough to last through fall. A few sprigs they’d planted tried their best to grown in the late summer ground. Dorian knew if they were to survive the winter without turning to the horses as food, he and the remaining men had plenty of hunting to do before the forests paths closed with snow. 

     One afternoon they’d come upon a neglected orchard struggling on its own. Dorian and the menfolk cleaned it up, retrenched the irrigation ditches and by fall, there would be apples to fill out their meager fare. While they worked they set the children to picking up the edible fruit and tossing the rotten fruit into a pile. The one pig they’d managed to bring was very appreciative of the treat. Last time they been out hunting Dorian and his men found a several thickets of berries. Once they’d cleared and rehung the vines the strawberries and blueberries responded by bursting into flower.

     Enough of the old stable was still standing to provide room enough for their dozen remaining horses. Dorian stopped at the stable and took a moment to enjoy the quiet. He often talked to the horses. They were good listeners. A fact he’d only recently discovered.

     The work felt good and strengthened his body. They’d planted winter vegetables, rebuilt the stable walls to protect the horses. Stored what they could forage. Goats were plentiful and two of the women managed to bring their looms. Their priority was blankets and warm outerwear. As soon as the hunters returned, the woman scavenged the gutted animals for the leather and fur.

     Dorian felt so proud of them. They’d left everything they knew behind and fearlessly followed him into the wilds. They’d created a community in Skyhold. He’d discovered a unique satisfaction in helping the men work at preparing for the coming winter. They looked to him as their leader and that was fine until the others returned. He would hold them together until then. His thoughts always stopped there, because the alternative was unthinkable. Every week he sent out messengers and a few days later they returned empty handed.

     Finally, often when dawn made its first appearance along the horizon Dorian would make his way to the chamber he’d chosen for himself. When the Inquisitor returned he would vacate the rooms, but until then he kept them for him.

     He’d strip off the worn leather pants and cotton vest and shirt he wore to work in. Pulled the leather thong he used to keep his hair out of his face. Then wash himself in the bucket of water the innkeeper’s wife thoughtfully left for him each evening. It was as he watched the fire die down, and the day was really over thoughts of Jaiden crept in. In a way he was almost happy they never really spent the night together or built something real between them. How can you miss something you never really had? But he remembered the taste of the man’s sweat and the scent of his desire. He remembered Jaiden’s head thrown back and dark eyes blown with passion. Heard the whispered pleas, and felt the hungry kisses. He missed his golden man. Ached with it and only working took his mind off the clamoring of his body’s demands. So work he did, from sun up to sundown and then when the fires were banked and he could find nothing else to distract himself he tried to sleep.

     Almost six weeks went by when a watcher shouted from the Keep. “Riders approaching!”

     Dorian dropped his mug of beer and sprinted for the gates. His heart fell with disappointment when he followed the guard through the gate.

     “Sorry, sir. It’s not the Inquisitor.”

     No, not the companions… Any day, he’ll be here. Any day now, he’ll hear Iron Bull teasing Varric about riding the bull and that he didn't know what he was missing. Cassandra's bossiness, Liliana’s intelligence, Cullen’s fierce courage... and soon he’ll see the stormy dark eyes of Jaiden.

     Two Haven men grabbed the horse’s bridles and Dorian watched the man in Tevinter livery slide from his horse to assist the other man down. The second man was dressed in a gilded leather suite and fox cape.

     It wasn’t possible, but he wasn’t tired enough to hallucinate the arrival of his boyhood friend Blade Le Bihan. He guessed the other man in livery must be his servant.

     “Dorian Pavus, what a sight you are for a weary traveler! Maker’s Balls, I’ve been on this damn nag for days. What are you doing out here rusticating. We, and by we, I mean the boys, miss you at court.”

     “None of us are boys anymore, Blade. What are you doing here?”

     “Come Dorian, show me around your estate. Then later we'll adjourn to the master’s chambers.” He tossed an arm around Dorian’s neck. “We’ll sample some of your father’s excellent brandy and then I believe it’s my turn to be master,” he finished with a wink. “Let me look at you. Maker’s breath,” he lifted Dorian’s hand to his lips. “You’re more beautiful than I remember and I remember a lot about you.”

     Dorian steered the man inside the common area before he could say more. Men like Blade didn’t travel on horseback; they traveled in carriages with no less than a dozen attendants. Was his father behind this? Some new political ball to push and bounce to see what kind of information fell out. Was his presence a threat to Skyhold? He would wait and let the game play out. He managed to stay clear of the man’s hands long enough to order food and brandy. While they waited, Blade looked him up and down.

     “No offense, but your fashion sense has slipped. You’ve grown as wild as them." Gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder. "And that mustache. Do you see me with hair on my face? No, my beauty. Facial hair went out two seasons ago.”

     The food arrived and Blade downed a cup and waited for the serving girl to leave. Dorian realized that he no longer cared about fashion trends in the damn Imperium. 

     “-She’s a fine wench. Nice tits. Still young enough to play a game or two, eh?”

     “Her name is Anna, she’s not a wench and you will not toy with her.”

     “Oh Dorian, don’t be jealous. There’s plenty to go around. Now, where was I? Oh yes, facial hair is out. But we are doing interesting things with cock hair.”

     Blade took another deep sip and cast a predatory glance at Dorian. “Let’s adjourn to your quarters, beautiful boy. I’ll show you what they’ve done with my curls and I have the most delicious tattoo. Can’t wait to show it to you.”

     Dorian’s fatigue, disappointment and worry, allowed Blade to back the mage against the fireplace. The man slid his hand between Dorian’s legs and cupped the growing mound through the homespun wool pants. Dorian couldn’t suppress the groan of need, when the man dragged his nails over him. 

     “Ahhh, there’s my Dorian.”

* * *

 "The long and winding road that leads to your door

Will never disappear.

I've seen that road before,

It always leads me here, lead me your door

Many times I've been alone

And many times I've cried

Anyway, you'll never know the many ways I've tried

But still they lead me back to the long and winding road.

You left me standing here

A long long time ago

Don't keep me waiting here,

Lead me to your door

Don't keep me waiting here,

Lead me to your door

The wild and windy night

That the rain washed away

Has left a pool of tears

Crying for the day

Don't leave me waiting here (don't keep me waiting)

Let me know the way"

-Song by Paul McCartney

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xqu9qhBHWNs


	8. Finding Strength in the Broken Places

* * *

"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places." -Ernest Hemingway

* * *

     The fireplace is hot enough for Dorian to feel the heat on the back of his legs and it's beginning to burn. What in Maker's name was this man doing here and how did he find him? How had he even found this place?  A meaty fist burrowed its way into his pants and tugged at his cock. A thumb slipped over the crown. Blade used the moisture to scratch a trail down the pulsing vein. 

     The mage ground his teeth together. "Did you genuinely ride all this way to seduce me or just make fun of my clothes?"

     Blade squeezed and Dorian gasped. "Just here for a short conversation and a lot of fun."

     Did he really need to remind the man he was a mage? If he could hold out for a few minutes longer perhaps he could get the man to reveal his true intentions. With all the focus of a highly trained mage, Dorian slowed his breathing and pushed the raging chaos between his legs out of his thoughts. A long time since anyone had touched him, his body wanted none of the discipline and all of the of lust. In fact, it demanded him to push against the pressure, to give in... it would only take a moment more. Blessed relief would come. Just a moment more.

     Then an arm wrapped itself around his waist and hot breath tickled his ear.

     "Remember how you loved taking me in your mouth, beautiful boy. You're so good at it. But it was I who taught you, wasn't it?"

     Yes, he remembered. All the first-times this man subjected him to. In the beginning, it had been nearly heaven. Older men mentoring young men was the norm in Tevinter. Le Bihan was a wealthy nobleman and Dorian's family approved. The man had even protected him from his father more than a time or two. It was as the man aged, that things got bad and his appetites coarse and insatiable. That was another thing Dorian didn't understand, by the time he was fifteen, Blade had discarded him for a younger boy. Claiming Dorian was too old and the dark body hair unappetizing. He remembered feeling, not sad or rejected, but relieved. He left for his mage apprenticeship soon after and until now, almost forgotten Blade Le Bihan.

     Why now? Why this show of desire? Just a bit over the top. 

     The hand withdrew, leaving his cock aching and alone. Dorian nearly cried. 

     "Easy, my boy. Come, let me see you." 

     The mage watched the older man drop to his knees in front of him. Torn between knocking the man aside and learning why the man was here, it was all lost when Blade yanked down his pants and engulfed his cock in a warm wet mouth that knew exactly how to extract the most pleasure from a man. Dorian grabbed for the mantel and cursed his own weaknesses. The textured tongue swirled and dragged itself over the pulsing crown. 

     The clatter of metal, horses hooves and male voices in the bailey.  

     Dorian's free hand found its way to the thick dark hair of the man at his feet. Blade responded by vibrating the cock in his mouth with a sing-song hum.  His hips began to move. He no longer controlled his own body. Control of his body's weaknesses were among his first lessons. A failure, both as a man and a mage. A hot tear burned down his cheek. Lust swirled across his flesh, then drove down his spine with a blinding white heat.

     The sound of boots on the stairs. 

     The pressure increased and two thick fingers found their way into his backside, sinking deep and aiming true. Dorian screamed and bent double as he came in short, violent bursts, pouring himself into Blade's willing greedy mouth.  

     The large arched wooden door crashed open, "Dorian?"

     The Inquisitor located Dorian in the room, sinking to his knees by the fire. What had begun to open in his heart closed with a painful harsh reminder of the reality of the world. For a long painful moment, Jaiden simply closed his eyes to will the vision away. It didn't help, because he could hear Dorian's ragged breathing and the sound of him pulling his clothes together.

     "Oh, no. Maker, no." Dorian slid to his knees with his hand stretched out toward Jaiden.  

     Blade climbed to his feet, suddenly less the overweight middle-aged man than a nimble warrior seeking his quarry. He dragged a sleeve across his mouth. "Good evening, Inquisitor. You're timing is perfection. Dorian and I were just doing some reminiscing and now you are here. Pleasure first, business second I always say."

   The broadsword slide from its scabbard. "You have the time it takes for you to take a breath to explain yourself, then you will breathe no more."

   "No need for theatrics, my boy." Blade spread his arms wide. "I have three hundred men out there hidden in the shadows."

    "Jaiden managed to keep the sneer from his expression. "Then to business. What do you want?" 

    "Nothing," the man said with a lecherous grin, "that I have not already taken. However, if you must know details. This beautiful boy's father is rather insistent about getting his son back home. There are matters of which, as a noble, you are no doubt aware. Bloodlines to secure and all that rot. In addition, Dorian's father is very interested in the amount of funds your little crusade is generating. If you allow him to take this castle as a stronghold and generous share in the loot, he will think of allowing you to keep that beautiful boy mewling in the corner. Once he's fathered a brat or two... once or twice a year. You won't mind though? It'll be nice to take a break from all that buggery."

     "Stop calling him that and I have no intention of responding to your ridiculous proposition." Jaiden knew he was being manipulated into losing control. He would not give into his rage, rather channel it and wait for the right moment. Even a soldier's heart could be broken, but to show it meant weakness and weakness meant death.

     "My dear young man, you are hardly in a position to make demands. Although," he rubbed his crotch suggestively, "you might ease the ache in my cock. The boy's so delicious. Don't you think?"

    The tip of his broad sword dipped at the man's horrible words. Something that should be cherished or at least respected suddenly turned to filth. Inside he was sickened to his soul, outside the golden man turned to hard sharp-edged metal, with enough fury coursing through his body to cut a man in two. 

     "There are innocent women and children in this castle."

     "Try again. Do you actually think I care about a few peasants? Come, Inquisitor. Let's call for food and wine and we'll discuss this like two men."

     "I will kill you first."

     The man frowned. "So be it. I have but to make a small signal."

     While Jaiden studied the man, intending to intercept any movement toward the balcony, the man's eyes went wide. Then Jaiden noticed a trickle of blood bubbling from the man's mouth.

     "Not if I kill him first." The flat dead sounding words followed the sound of something moving through the air.

     Blade toppled forward, the jeweled hilt of a dagger protruding from his back. The Inquisitor glanced at Dorian.

    "Jaiden... Inquisitor...?"

     "Do not speak, Mage."

     With his boot on the man's back, Jaiden jerked the dagger out and tossed it on the floor. He retrieved the mage's staff from the corner and tossed it to him. "I see the way of it. Do not trouble yourself to explain it to me."

     But Dorian was not so quick to forgive himself. "I'll go muster the men. We know our way in the darkness and we shall be quick as rats as we cut their throats in the streets."

     "What you mean to do is sacrifice yourself. Shame does not suite you, Mage."

     "I have no explanation and therefore no defense. I am only sorry you had to witness it or hear his filth." 

     Jaiden took a hold of Dorian's collar and yanked him into his arms against the hard metal of his armor. "You are not listening to me. We are better and stronger together than apart. Now, will you stand with me to defend these people?"

     "Yes, on my honor - for what that's worth."

     "We must move then. Call the men to arms."

     Dorian nodded and ran down the steps to the bailey. What would come, would come. Now he had a job to do. His power coursed through him renewed and stronger than ever. 

    

 

 

 


	9. The Heart of the Matter

* * *

"I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
Because the flesh will get weak  
And the ashes will scatter  
So I'm thinkin' about forgiveness  
Forgiveness  
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"  

* * *

      With a full heart, Dorian held the other man's eyes for a moment. Yes, he thought, when Jaiden nodded, there would be time for talking later and that gave him hope.

     "Dorian, wait!" The Inquisitor grabbed one of Dorian's leather shirts - the one without all the shiny bits - and draped it over Dorian's shoulders. "Be safe."

     “Wait. How will you get out?”

     “The same way I came in, Mage. I was in a hurry to get to you. There’s a passageway in the library. Now, go!”

     Wanting nothing more than to lean back in those arms there was no time. Anyway, that body would begin to stink very soon. Jaiden propelled him toward the stairs. With a small prayer that he might earn his forgiveness, Dorian ran down the stone steps on silent feet through the shadowed library and into the garden.

    With confidence in their abilities to defend their new home, his low three-note whistle brought men and women out of their slumber and guards to the ready. The signal carried from building to building. Everyone had a job to do, without lanterns, or extra candles, the residents of Skyhold moved quickly to defend their home. Children stayed wisely silent while women helped their men dress and handed them their weapons. Dogs bristled with anticipation in their kennels, while the horses nodded and stamped.

     Moving from man to man silently, a shadow among the shadows Dorian whispered words of encouragement, squeezed a shoulder and patted the head of an over excited dog. On the other side of the yard, the Innkeeper and his wife watched for him. It was time to set this in motion.

      Slipping his arms into the sleeves of the jacket, Dorian began a slow walk across the yard. Even stopped for a moment to look up at the stars. As a man simply in search of a drink the mage continued to the door. They unlocked the door long enough for the mage to enter. Just as they had practiced, four guards met him in the darkened taproom.

      “There’s a man, dead now, in the Inquisitor's room,” Dorian began as soon as they’d gathered around him. “Threatened us with three hundred men hiding in the shadows waiting to take Skyhold for their own. I cannot confirm that number. We must move quickly before those men become suspicious. We know these stone halls as they do not. Seek them out. Let them die silently by our blades. The Inquisitor's men wait outside the gates forming a perimeter so that none may escape their fate. Go, and Maker be with you.”

     When the guards departed, Dorian placed his hands on the bar and closed his eyes. Still under the effects of Blade’s torture, and he must call it that, the alternative he is not ready to face. The Innkeeper's wife set a tankard of mead in front of him.

     "You’re white to the eyes, dearie. Your Inquisitor wasn't as happy to see you as you'd like?”

      Her concerned eyes showed no hint of malice or teasing. They'd become friends since that day she’d appeared in his room to bathe him. She and her man took Dorian into their hearts and gave him a place to find peace when he needed it. Almost like the parents he might have wished for. Not that he wasn’t grateful, but he was very much afraid they may have softened his edges.

      “No Maud, he wasn't, I think. No one really wants a necromancer around. Popular novelty when you need one, an embarrassment when the fun is over.” He patted her hand. “It’ll turn out for the best.”

      “Aye lad, things usually do,” The Innkeeper said with a glance towards his wife. “They usually do. You'd better go. The men'll want to see you.”

      Maud placed a hand on his forearm, “You don't know it, but they draw courage from you from your leadership.”

      “Old mother, I'm just the caretaker here until the lord returns. I owe him one more service then I will exit his life, the same way I came in. No fuss. No long goodbyes." Dorian waved his hand as if reaching for some of the old bravado. "Although, I shall hear your opinion of my mustache when this is all over."

     Maud’s face told him she was right through him.  

      The Innkeeper turned from the windows. “There's the signal. Maker keep you." Tom the Innkeeper squeezed Dorian's shoulders, "Don't close your eyes to what's in front of you, Dorian.”

      The man’s words stayed with him as he moved through the night. He could just generate chaos among Blade’s men by casting Blinding Terror. No, without an accurate idea of numbers he couldn't take that chance. Once he was sure of their strength, he might. With his physical state weakened and his mind distracted, the mage's concentration wavered for a moment. What manner of man was he?

      Beneath the leather garment, Dorian felt dirty with sweat and the stench of the man's flowery perfume. The bathhouses, the drunken parties and the eager responses from the young boys at Blade's famous orgies. Those were good days. Days of pleasure and learning and the sharing of ideas. Why now, did they seem sordid and wrong? Bile splashed into his throat, burning him and making him wretch. Blade. Blade was the reason. Disgusting how he'd twisted the memories and their relationship into base greed and lechery. The pig had meant to kill Jaiden. He meant to kill them all. The people of Skyhold. Good and brave people who shared their stories and meals with him.

     On an evening, several nights ago, when a harvest moon hung bright and full in the sky, they'd invited him to a celebration and came very close to refusing. Then with an unexpected glow of pride, he remembered how hard they had all worked to ensure their survival through the coming winter. He found the main hall decorated with winter vegetables and the last of the summer flowers. Tables laden with food stretched down one whole wall. Kegs of fresh beer and ale flanked the buffet tables.

    With simple instruments - certainly none of the sophistication he'd enjoyed at court - he watched them dance and laugh. With their eyes downcast, several women shyly asked him to dance. A few of the men laughed good-naturedly and raised their tankards to him when he politely refused. Then Heather approached him and he found he couldn't resist the laughter in her gray eyes. Soon he was on the floor leading her through a country reel. When the dance ended, he swung her high in the air to everyone’s applause. It was then, when he gallantly offered to escort her back to her parents, he'd learned she and her brother were orphans. He hadn’t known.

     What would Blade do to his princess Heather and her brother? Dorian's rage grew when he had to force the image of her torn body and dead eyes from his mind. 

     Just ahead, Dorian watched a Skyhold man slip behind two men in Le Bihan livery. He couldn’t kill them both at once, that left too much risk of one crying out. The mage stepped up his pace and turned one the men’s attention toward him when he tapped him on the shoulder. Two muffled cries ended abruptly as their throats were cut. Nasty business, Dorian thought as he stepped away to avoid the blood.

     It was the blacksmith. "Well met, sir.” Dorian bowed from the waist. “Shall we proceed?"

     "Aye, Mage."

     Moving in tandem through the dark passages, the brooding icy tones held little mystery for the two men as they cleared a path through the bailey and keep. In a moment where they had more than a second to react, the blacksmith demonstrated how to break a man’s neck with his hands. Grizzly, the mage grimaced, but effective.

      An hour went by and Dorian’s hands began to ache with the effort of using his hands and a blade. Gradually, others joined up with the mage and the blacksmith as they cleared the area. The plan was to meet back at the Inn. They found one of the men hiding in the garden. The blacksmith stepped in front of Dorian to deal the blow. But they’d fallen for the distraction and several men cornered them in the garden. A scream above their head’s distracted Dorian. The mage recognized the voice and smashed his hand into his adversary’s face to put him down quickly. He backed up to see two men with Heather between them on the Inquisitor’s balcony.

    “We’ve got this, Mage. It’s your princess needs rescuing,” the blacksmith shouted, tossing a dead invader down on the stones.

   “Aye, we see you down there Dorian. You’ve killed Blade. That won’t go over so well with your father. Found this little morsel hiding under your bed. You do get around don’t you? So the deal still stands or perhaps you wouldn’t mind if we sampled some of this little girl?”

     He could cast something and reach that far. He knew it he could do it. But what if he hit Heather? Dorian’s concern and indecision proved a mistake, when an arrow ripped open his leather shirt. Blood welled from the shallow wound.

    “Open the damn gates. Time to make an end to this folly!”

     Moving quickly two men headed for the gate house and two for the battlements. Dorian heard the sound of the gate crashing open just as he stumbled inside the Inn. The floor tilted and he stumbled across the threshold. Dizzy and nauseated, Doran fought to keep his feet long enough to fall against a table. The table moved out from under his hands.

     “Maker’s Breath someone put a stop to this movement.” His hands were covered in blood and gore, it disgusted him. He was a mage not some street thug. An Altus mage from Tevinter. He ripped off his bloody shirt. The wound on his chest bleed freely now spreading a crimson trail over his muscular chest. The finest education, the best training, always remembered to send thank you notes. No, he thought, sliding to his hands and knees and choking on bile. I am man of Skyhold.

     Dorian fell to his side retching and shaking. He couldn’t save Heather…

 ~o0o~

     Someone was sticking a needle through his skin. When he tried to swat the hand away, he discovered he was bound to the bed.

    “Not up for this kind of sport just now,” he managed to choke. “Maybe later. When someone stops sewing on my chest!”   

    “Quiet, Mage. Children present. One of those boys nicked you good with a poison arrow. Maude's setting it right for you."

    “Blade’s men?”

   “Gone. The ones we didn’t pick off were routed by the Inquisitor's men.”

   “The Inquisitor?”

   “No one has seen him, Dorian.”

    Dorian felt a hand on his cheek drawing his attention. “Me and my brother are okay, Dorian. You did real good at keeping us safe. Real good. Don’t cry, Sir Dorian. Knights don’t cry. See? We’re okay?”

 

* * *

-Don Henley  _The Heart of the Matter_

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEQgkor-jgU

"I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear  
But I knew that it would come  
An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone  
She said you found someone  
And I thought of all the bad luck,  
And the struggles we went through  
And how I lost me and you lost you  
What are these voices outside love's open door  
Make us throw off our contentment  
And beg for something more?

I'm learning to live without you now  
But I miss you sometimes  
The more I know, the less I understand  
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning again  
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
But my will gets weak  
And my thoughts seem to scatter  
But I think it's about forgiveness  
Forgiveness  
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

These times are so uncertain  
There's a yearning undefined  
... People filled with rage  
We all need a little tenderness  
How can love survive in such a graceless age  
The trust and self-assurance that can lead to happiness  
They're the very things we kill, I guess  
Pride and competition cannot fill these empty arms  
And the work I put between us,  
Doesn't keep me warm

I'm learning to live without you now  
But I miss you, Baby  
The more I know, the less I understand  
All the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again  
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
But everything changes  
And my friends seem to scatter  
But I think it's about forgiveness  
Forgiveness  
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

There are people in your life who've come and gone  
They let you down and hurt your pride  
Better put it all behind you; life goes on  
You keep carrin' that anger, it'll eat you inside

I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
But my will gets weak  
And my thoughts seem to scatter  
But I think it's about forgiveness  
Forgiveness  
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore"


	10. If I Loved You

* * *

"If I loved you,

time and again I would try to say

all I'd want you to know

If I loved you,

words wouldn't come In an easy way,

round in circles I'd go."

-Carousel, _If I Loved You_

* * *

     The Frostback Mountains were making quick work of the last of the sun’s rays, when Jaiden Edouard Trevelyan stopped to shade his eyes against the flickering horizontal light. Exhausted and depleted, the young man stood at the top of a path about a half a mile from Skyhold, searching the stone windows for signs of torches flickering to life. With his starved body canted forward, eager eyes counted the lights and wondered if there was any place left in this land where he could call home.

     A north wind blew off the mountains, sweeping a shower of ice over him and obscuring his view of Skyhold. Shivering and raging against the weather he pulled a wolf skin out of his pack and shrugged it over his shoulders. The movement shifted the books in his pack, nearly tumbling them into the snow. It took both hands to stop them from sliding over the edge. He caught the books with his left hand and grunted with pain. Most mornings his hand ached so badly he kept supported inside the opening of his shirt. Would the Inquisitors mark on this hand ever leave him in peace? Perhaps the mark might stay with him to remind him of how many lives he’d taken.

     What about the lives he’d saved?

     The books reminded him again of why he was here and what he might find when he arrived at the gates of Skyhold. The mage might be dead or gone back to Tevinter. He really didn’t know and didn’t know how might react of either turned out to be true.

     A month since he’d closed the Breach and eight weeks since he’d helped Dorian defend Skyhold. Yet, winter hadn’t lost its grip on the mountains. Jaiden scratched his chin through his the beard and watched. What right did he have to knock on the gates of Skyhold?

     There was no real place for him, the youngest son of the Trevelyan clan. He’d spent exactly three days at his brother’s court. One evening after a grand feast, his brother placed an arm around him. Little brother, he’d said. Go make your way in the world. It’ll make a man out of you. Apparently, he’d forgotten about the Inquisitor part. Then he’d settled an obscene about of royals on him and showed him — as only a loving older brother could — the door.

     Jaiden took an hour to visit their parent’s crypt and left without backward glance. With these books, the weapons he’d left behind to attend the Chantry Conclave and a memento or two from childhood, he’d taken to wandering. The beard and longer hair kept most people from recognizing him. It wasn't a bad life. Very few expectations of him made life simpler. A few hours’ work and most days he could get a bed and some food.

     A life of faith was not for him, he knew it now. He’d always known it. Hadn’t he always been the one who begged his father’s soldiers to fight with him and teach him everything they knew? In his father’s exercise yard, he’d learned how to wield a sword, kill a man with his bare hands, and use a bow and arrow. What he’d never realized was how good he’d become. Fighting Corypheus refined his skills and bloodied his hands.

     Dorian had teased him many times about is killing abilities.

     Jaiden scrubbed an aching hand over his face and adjusted the pack on his shoulder. With a heart full of emotions he no longer had the energy to sort, he started down the slippery path toward Skyhold.

     A few minutes’ walk found him in a deep ravine of rock screes and old snow. Animal prints in the snow revealed a second path he knows would lead him out of the mountains to the alpine meadow below. An hour of dangerous walking would get him to warmer climes and away from the growing storm in his heart. Anyway, wandering had its benefits, if you didn’t mind missing a meal or two, a man could believe he was free. It was the long nights that reminded you what a lie that was.

     He’d also learned that some things stay with you. Many nights he’d spent looking up at the stars, thinking about the mage. Jaiden had often smiled into the night remembering the man’s satirical humor and the gentle shy smile he kept hidden from everyone else. The mage had gifted those soothing hands and smile to him and he’d thrown them away.

     That night. That horrible night, he’d run to Dorian without a moment of hesitation only to find him with another man. Although, he understood what happened that night he’d found Dorian in the hands of that pig. Thinking of the mage led him to cursing himself for allowing the moment of forgiveness to pass. Instead he’d opted to run. Should he keep running? The thing he’d done, closing the Breach and all that, was just a magic trick compared to Dorian’s achievement of saving these people and creating a community.

     Later, perhaps later… in the morning, he’d think again about a life of faith. Cloistered and forgotten, while the world moved on.

     Behind him, the drawbridge banged open on the stone bridge. Breath caught in his chest. No, this is too painful. The portcullis follows, clanging open in the still night air.

     No.

     Jaiden shifted the pack with the wrong hand and curses in pain. He’ll have to hurry now if he’s to get away unseen. This was a mistake. Perhaps he’ll join The Iron Bull and his chargers. A life of fighting for pay and an early death, definitely had its attractions.

     A light emerged from the castle. He must move now. Across the lonely landscape, a lantern glows and swings in the darkness. Jaiden forgets to fight the pull of Skyhold and stopped. The person obviously knows the way. It takes only a few minutes for him to reach the path where Jaiden stands.

     I must keep moving, he reminded himself. His hands and feet are tingling. He’ll freeze to death and very soon. The clear night will only get colder, he should move down to the meadow. It’s probably only a guard come to see about the intruder.

     He’ll go now.

     “Inquisitor?” 

     What? That voice. That velvet melodic voice, which mesmerized him with its unspoken promises.

     “Lord Trevelyan?”

     Jaiden snorted, “My brother has that title and no wish to share a home with his recalcitrant little brother.”

     “Then, amatus, if I may presume and you know I will.” Dorian’s voice floated across the night. A voice filled with hope? Was that what he heard?

     Jaiden shuddered.

     What had he just called him? Jaiden turned so hastily his feet began to slide on the ice. Dorian moved quickly and managed to grab his arm.

     “Release me, Mage.” Jaiden snarled. “I’m no longer worthy of that endearment. If I ever was.” Maker’s Wisdom, he needed to get off this mountain before it killed him.

     “Jaiden, don’t make me say it. You know how I hate that sort of syrupy talk.”

     He was breaking down by the second. The hand on his arm burned through his threadbare coat. If he looked into those pale green eyes, he’d be lost.

     Isn’t this what you’ve yearned for, he asked himself? No, I’m going back to the Chantry… any Chantry… in any town. It didn’t matter.

     A gloved hand touched his cheek forcing him to turn toward the mage. Dorian. Handsome Dorian. Dorian with his long black hair pulled back with a leather thong. Dorian dressed in a sheepskin coat, gloves, and fur-lined boots.

     “Dressing down these days, Mage?”

     “Suits my new image. Country baron, and all that. ”

     “Baron, is it?”

     “We’re rather casual here in Skyhold. We have a genuine princess here. You’ll meet here. Additionally, I work as part time as a Knight in Shining Armor, cook, and horse master. Taken quite a liking to the brutes.”

     “Dorian.”

     “Inquisitor, will you allow me to lead you safely to the keep? These paths are treacherous to those who don’t know their tricks.”

     “I’m not the Inquisitor anymore.”

     “Ah, yes. Cassandra and the boys told us all about it. Well, done.”

     “Are they still here?”

     “Indeed not. Cassandra ran off at the first hint she might be voted the next Divine. Iron Bull and his retinue cashed in on their new fame and took lucrative contract. Varric left to see to his business interests and visit his publisher. I understand it was good news. Something about one of his male relationship stories gaining popularity.

     “Slash?”

     “Yes, that’s the word he used. Never heard of it before. He was was most excited to get home.”

     Dorian noticed Jaiden relaxing as they talked. He decided to take a chance and with his arm still on Jaiden began to walk toward Skyhold.

     “Dorian?”

     Behind him, he felt Jaiden stop on the trail. He needed to keep the man moving. Keep talking and walking, so he said the first thing he could think of, “Captain Feathers is still here, though. He seems to think the soldiers you left behind were in need of training. Soft was the word he used. So, it’s up with the cockcrow with all the clanging and banging in the exercise yard.”

     “Dorian? Remember that time you invited me to have a drink?”

     “…if you have a mind.” Dorian repeated the words he’d said so long ago. Almost two seasons had past since that day. “Well, it’s about time, isn’t it?”

     The hopelessness and exhaustion in Jaiden’s voice was breaking him.

     “And maybe some food, unless, you see me fainting in your arms as a romantic gesture.”

     “Romantic gesture, he says,” Dorian threw his head back and laughed. The familiar gesture it almost took Jaiden to his knees. “The man hasn’t eaten or bathed in Maker knows how many days and he’s looking for romance.”

     “Dorian. Please, stop for a moment.” Jaiden stared out at the night. The stars seemed as if they were all around. So close he could reach out and touch them. “I’m sorry,” his voice broke. I-I’m sorry…”

     Dorian took the icy cheeks in his hands, “Many things have changed, amatus. But not the lovesick boy watching for his knight in shining armor.”

     “Don’t do that, Dorian. Don’t be kind. I’ve done nothing to earn it.”

     Dorian closed his eyes and willed himself to stillness. It would take more than humor or familiarity to get through to this lost man.

     “Jaiden, we’re almost there. Hot food and a comfortable bed await. Nothing more complicated than that.”

     “No. No, I’ll go. I was headed back down the mountain when you came upon me.”

     “I will not let you go just for the saying. You’ve only lost yourself. Skyhold will give you the safety and time to find yourself again.”

     Dorian turned to assist the Inquisitor down a steep spot and became aware of what he could no longer ignore. The golden hair hanging in greasy strings around a gaunt face, threadbare clothes, and feet wrapped in rags. What has happened to this man? He must hide the grief, he was a mage, and he could do it. But he forgot how well Jaiden knew him. When the man reached him, Jaiden stopped. Dorian stopped his body canted toward the man who haunted his dreams. The two men leaned toward each other, yearning, reaching, until their bodies touched.

     “I will not leave you to the mountains, amatus. If it’s death you seek, you’ll have the fucking courage to die in front of me.”

     He shrugged Dorian off, “You shouldn’t call me that. I don’t want to intrude… you probably have someone…”

     Dorian laughed again. “And who have you picked out for me? The blacksmith perhaps? A friend, yes. But I require rather less grime under the fingernails.”

     Jaiden held up his hands to the mage's face. Ragged dirty fingernails and chilblains greeted Dorian. “Please come with me. There’s food and warmth. Nothing more complicated than that.”

     “I’ve missed you.” The bag fell to the snow.

     “What can I say to help you decide to come inside?”

     “Did you love me once? Not the Jaiden I’ve become. The Jaiden you knew. The idealistic dreamer… the arrogant boy who thought he could save the world.”

     “You did save the world. Of course I loved you amatus. Come inside and I will prove it.”

     “We hardly knew each other. You have important things to do. Goodbye, Dorian. It’s better this way.”

     “It’s not better. Not better by a long shot.” Dorian was running out of ideas, but he had managed to keep Jaiden’s back turned to the Castle when lanterns began head their way. The mage lost count of the lights. Please hurry, he thought. I’m losing him.

     “I haven’t eaten anything but a few berries in the last three days.”

     “Come home with me. Come home.”

     Jaiden dropped his head on Dorian’s shoulder, “Perhaps, I would like to come home now.”

     Maude the Innkeeper's wife reached him first. “Come along, dearie. We held supper for you.”

     The Innkeeper shouldered the bag. One by one the townspeople surrounded him and led him back to the warmth of Skyhold.

* * *

 

If I Loved You: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mSEb7Bl0hU


	11. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Here I go again. Descriptions of child sexual abuse in this chapter. Sometimes I worry about myself. Is this all I can write? Dark, sad and scary *evil laughter*

* * *

"My own heroes are the dreamers, those men and women who tried to make the world a better place than when they found it, whether in small ways or great ones. Some succeeded, some failed, most had mixed results..., but it is the effort that's heroic, as I see it. Win or lose, I admire those who fight the good fight." ― George R.R. Martin

* * *

     Before he could protest, the townspeople of Skyhold gathered around Jaiden, pressing against him with their friendly smiles and gratitude. They led him inside the castle. They fussed over him and asked him questions. Made him eat and gave him reasons to smile. They told him stories while he ate and when he'd finished the last slice of crusty bread, they stole his clothes and his satchel. When they were done with him, they wrapped him in a blanket and escorted him to Dorian's room.

     He felt as shy and anxious as a bride did on her wedding night. The analogy was perhaps not far from wrong. On the other side of the door, Dorian waited for him. With laughter and good-natured jokes, they shoved him through and closed it firmly behind him.

     If Jaiden felt nervous as a bride, Dorian worried, that with the arrival of the Inquisitor how much longer his welcome at Skyhold might hold and if he should stay or go. Wiping his damp palms together, the two men stared at each other, both men uncertain. Jaiden, because he was tired and unsure. Dorian because for the first time in his adult life he worried about the outcome of a relationship.

     Swaying on his feet, Jaiden said the first thing that came to him, "I didn't notice that night. This is a beautiful room."

     "And it's yours."

     "I do not require this… no," he shook his head, gesturing with his hand and the blanket slipped to reveal his shoulders. "It's yours or give it to someone else," he said, with his eyes darting around the room, "Where is my pack?"

     "Still stubborn, I see. Your pack is safe, here by the fire. Before you depart to sleep in the stables, allow me to show you something." Dorian opened a small wooden door, motioning the other man inside.

      Jaiden approached the room, with all the trepidation of someone walking into a trap. The mage nodded him in with a slight bow. Instead of a trap, he found a room with a large wooden tub, towels and a set of clothes folded neatly on a nearby chair. Soap and a razor waited nearby. Jaiden inhaled the fragrant scent floating off the steaming water. A thick Orlesian carpet waited to warm bare feet. In the corner, a stove gave off cheerful waves of heat.

     Dorian gave him a gentle push, deliberately closed the door, and left Jaiden to his comforts.

~o0o~

     Two hours later, after several trips around the room, literally holding himself to the banister of the balcony, he sat in a chair and tried for the fifth time to read the same page, created a wave of anxiety that left him breathless. Tilting his head back on the chair, Dorian closed his eyes and tried to stop his imagination from running him crazy. He'd already decided he would go home to Tevinter. Go home, play the good son, marry the girl, close his eyes, and beget a child. He didn't have to live with the woman. He'd make that clear from the start. Go live your own life he'd tell her. There's plenty of money to fund whatever causes you support or purchase as many gowns your heart desires. Then to quiet the screaming in his head and avoid the disappointed look on a child's face, he would drink himself into an early grave.

     All of those carefully thought out decisions fled his brain when he heard the hesitant footfalls of Jaiden's approach. Dressed in a simple cotton gown and robe he looked handsome and boyish. The over-sized blue eyes in a gaunt face, the curling blond hair, Dorian knew in that moment that if Jaiden didn't want him, he'd have to leave. Time had done nothing to diminish the love he felt for this complicated, brave man who stood so shy and reticent.

     "Don't stare at me."

     Back to that again.

     "Then tell me what I can do. To watch you stand there with such uncertainty is breaking my heart."

     Dark blues eyes looked up from the floor. "I'm sorry… perhaps… you might help me?"

     Dorian almost leaped to his feet. An opening, perhaps a beginning. The mage held out his hand. "You are only tired."

     When Jaiden allowed him to lead him to the bed, the weight of dread began to lift. Dorian pushed the hesitant man down on the bed and bent to remove the slippers. A hand lifted his chin.

     "You are so beautiful, Dorian."

     The mage pushed the man back on the bed and slid his legs under the blankets. Whether he realized or not Jaiden was shivering with cold. Although he longed to crawl in next to the man and warm him, he dared not give voice to his heart.

     "Now, that's not fair. You're almost asleep. You'll forget you said that by the time you wake up," Dorian teased settling Jaiden into the bed.

     Jaiden shook his head, "No, I remember everything. Dorian, I can hardly believe I'm here. The Fade called to me and I almost let it take me."

     With Jaiden's hand clasped against his chest, Dorian let his heart speak for him. If he thought he could be stronger than what he felt for this man, he was wrong. He'd waited too long for Jaiden to keep silent.

     "Amatus, you had every reason to live. We-I waited for you. Let me be the anchor you need. Then together we'll explore those demons of yours. Yes?" Dorian looked away for a moment, "If you'll let us…"

     When he looked back, the Inquisitor had fallen asleep. Dorian smiled down at him and kissed his forehead. No, he'd never seen this coming. Never knew that one man could bring out such feelings in him. But it wasn't just Jaiden, he realized as he watched him sleep. It was Heather and Tom, the blacksmith and the Innkeeper and his wife. The horses knew him by sight and always greeted him with soft sounds and nuzzling their velvet noses against him.

~o0o~

     He woke slowly tightly curled around himself to keep himself warm. Some habits are hard to break. When he turned over and stretched to the sight of decorative wooden beams bracing a high ceiling. The glass doors opened to a balcony with a view of distant mountains. The glazed windows — such an extravagance — reflected the colors of the early morning sun. He could appreciate that his father wouldn't spend that amount of coin on simple windows.

     For the first time in many months, he was actually warm. Next to the bed lay another set of clothes, some fruit, and cheese. Jaiden ran his fingers through his tousled hair. So strange to feel rested and sated. Hunger, cold, and isolation had become his constant companions. The question, he must answer for Dorian; is he ready to let them go.

    "Dorian?" The only sound a raptor screaming in the distance while it hunted for breakfast. When no one answered, he decided to go in search of the mage. The desire to see him, to touch him, if only to confirm this was real drove him to dress. Before heading downstairs, Jaiden put the razor and comb to use.

     Dressed in soft boots, leather pants, cotton shirt, and jacket, Jaiden made his way to the garden pausing to watch the early spring flowers. Voices from the stable draw him and his heart took a tumble when he recognized the mage's voice.

     "You're a good girl. Take a quick rest."

     Was Dorian actually speaking to a woman? Jaiden's curiosity won out and he rounded the corner to see a mare laying on her side in a large box stall and Dorian wiping down a newborn foal with a burlap sack.

     "A fine pair, eh Mage?" The blacksmith stood up and nodded toward the Inquisitor. "I'll fetch the teat."

     Jaiden watched the mage grin in response. Dorian was tired, but satisfied and Jaiden could not remember a more satisfied look on the man's face. but he is too distracted by the site of the twin foals to speak. The dampness of the afterbirth did not diminish the color of their golden coats. The mother is already pushing herself to her feet and nuzzling her two babies. One rose quickly on wobbly legs, the other lays exhausted in the straw.

     The mage moved quickly to wipe the mucus from the small nose and mouth. Soon the foal sneezed. The sound made the little foal jump to its feet in surprise.

     "Come along little one, Princess Heather will be here soon. You'll want to look your best."

     "May I help?"

     Dorian nearly fell back in the straw at the unexpected visitor. When the blacksmith entered with the bottle, Dorian indicated for the smith to hand it to Jaiden.

     "Just walk over slowly and offer him the nipple."

     "Aye. I've done this before at my father's estate."

     If that surprised Dorian, he didn't show it. Kneeling in the straw, Jaiden ran his hands over the exhausted foal until his hand rested on his head. With his other hand, he guided the nipple to the foal's mouth. The hungry newborn didn't need have to be asked twice, latching on greedily to suckle. Jaiden held the bottle and continued running his hands over the foal and murmuring soft words of comfort.

     Behind them, the mare stamped her displeasure.

     "He's almost ready, Haven. Be patient mother." The mare shook her head at the mage's words.

     "Do you see, Dorian? A golden pair of foals. These boys'll be racing the wind by early summer."

     The blacksmith offered the mare water and grain. When both foals were steady on their feet and nursing, the blacksmith shooed Dorian and Jaiden out of the stall.

     "There's a bucket and soap to wash and plenty of other things to see around here. Show him all our hard work, Mage."

     "It's a fine morning. Will you walk with me?" Dorian asked with his heart sounding too loud in his ears and no idea how Jaiden would respond.

     They made it as far as the garden, when Jaiden finally found the words. The bare trees released a fragrance from their new green buds. Lime and lemon trees gave off a citrusy scent. Birds busy building nests chirped and flew from tree to tree.

     "You have the look of farewell about you, Mage."

     "You handled that foal very confidently," Dorian said, turning the question away.

     "A youngest son is often left alone. I helped in the stable. The old head groom took a liking to me and taught me."

     "I didn't know… Did you eat something?" Dorian asked pulling leaves off a rose bush… "Bloody aphids!"

     "Dorian? Last night the people told me what you've done for them. They credit you with getting them here safely and building this community."

     "I only did it for you."

     "I might believe that of the old cynical Dorian. The man I see in front of me is relaxed and confident in this world he helped create."

     Still, the mage waved him away as if he'd done nothing. Dorian kept his back to Jaiden to hide the emotions building in his chest, threatening to choke him if he didn't give them voice.

    Fingers touched the leather thong and pulled his hair free. "It was horrible, Mage. The dragon. A beautiful creature slaughtered at my feet. Then Cassandra and the rest, once it was over, they turned into different people. Then suddenly I was alone. One by one, they walked away. And I missed you. I started wandering. That night, when I saw that man touching you the way… the way I dreamed of touching you. I couldn't do it. I had to go. I was a coward."

     "Someone hurt you?"

     "You've done well with the horses. Fine stock. I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing."

     "I wasn't until… here… now. It began with talking to them in the evenings. Turns out the brutes are good listeners. And Skyhold needed another source of income. Yes? We've only grown enough food to feed ourselves."

     The pride in the mage's voice was unmistakable. "You've made a home for yourselves here."

     "And for you, my dearest Inquisitor."

     Jaiden found his way to one of the stone benches, carded his fingers through his hair and wrapped his arms around himself. Then with his eyes fixed his eyes on a faraway place he began to talk. The voice sounded like the scared voice of a teenager with no one to turn to.

     "With all the focus on my older brother, I wrapped myself in learning. I think I read every book in my father's library. Studious and pious, what a bore and totally innocent. He cornered me in the Chancery library. Stank of onions and sweat. All I could see what the rising star on his filthy robes."

     Jaiden scrubbed his hand over his face and shivered. While Dorian stood silently with tears sliding unheeded down his cheeks.

    "H-he backed me against a row of shelves and I felt his hand groping me. I had barely touched myself and then he was… then he pushed me back and I felt his mouth… When it was over he made me do the same to him. It was like a nightmare and I felt guilty for years, because it felt good. I didn't want him to touch me, but it felt good. It felt… Dorian, I'm sorry. Then he left me, weeping on the floor."

     "Amatus?"

     In two strides, Jaiden launched himself at the mage and found strength and comfort in his embrace and the time to weep away the grief.


	12. When I Saw You

* * *

"When I saw you I fell in love, and you smiled because you knew." -William Shakespeare

* * *

     Dorian felt his heart swell in gratitude at this small concession Jaiden made by allowing the embrace. Holding him was like replenishing a hunger and thirst he didn’t know he had. Breathing him in, like air he’d forgotten to breathe.They stood so still and quiet together the birds came back to the trees. The early spring garden sheltered and surrounded them. No, matter how much Dorian wanted to prolong the moment, the people of Skyhold needed their mage. Yet, muscle by muscle and breath by breath, Jaiden relaxed into his arms. No, Dorian wasn’t ready to let him go.

     Then quiet footsteps entered the garden. A girl of ten, with her black hair falling in waves around her shoulders and holding her brother’s hand searched the garden for him. Over Jaiden’s shoulder, he waved a good morning to Heather and Tom.

     “Sir Mage,” she called out when she saw him. “Maude says to please come now because the pigs are in her garden again and this is the third time and she said that if that dirty pig farmer didn’t control his animals there would soon be enough bacon to last until this time next year. And the blacksmith said the ironmonger shorted us again and what do you intend to do about it?”

     Her brother tugged on her skirt and whispered to his sister. As she bent down to listen to him, Jaiden tried to move away from Dorian’s embrace.

     “I should go,” Jaiden said, trying again to turn away. Children shouldn’t see him like this, but Dorian held on to his shirt.

     Heather continued. “And Tom says to remind you about the books in the library and that you promised to teach us to read.”

     “Anything else, Princess Heather?” Dorian asked smiling into Jaiden’s eyes and rubbing his thumb across his lips.

     “Yes, Sir Knight. The Steward says he’s gonna quit if you don’t keep those damn, he used a bad word, soldiers out of the larder. He says this time they stole a whole side of venison. And one more thing...”

     Dorian watched her eyes slide away and a blush cross her cheeks.

     “You know you can tell me, Heather.”

     “Well, he said, I’ll be damned if I’ll see those soldiers fill the bellies of those serving girls. As if I don’t have enough mouths to feed as it is. I don’t know what that means.”

     While they’d been talking, Tom left his sister’s side. “Mister Inquisitor?” Tom asked tugging on Jaiden’s sleeve. “Are you alright, sir?”

     “I’m fine.” Jaiden knelt in front of the boy. “Tom is your name?”

     “Yes, sir. Don’t be scared. You’re home now sir and we take care of each other here.”

     “Thank you, Tom. If you’d like, I can help you learn to read and work on your letters.” He watched the boy’s eyes light up and he thought his heart might break. Maybe this would be work and perhaps he could stay.

     “Thank you, sir!”

     “Oy! There you be, Mage.” Someone else called out entering the garden. It was the housekeeper, drying her hands on her apron. “I need ya to tell that lazy chit of kitchen helper to stop stealing food. I know for a fact, she’s also giving away, well I don’t want to say so in front of the children, but I think you know what I mean. And for another thing, that damn laundry girl spends more time making eyes at you then her washing. Could you speak to her again? Children, come along. Time to start your chores. No need to be bothering the men. Come along,” she clucked after them. Then over her shoulder called out, “Good to have you back, M’Lord!”

     When the garden was quiet again, Dorian framed Jaiden’s face in his hands, “Thank you for telling me. You pulled its teeth by forcing it into the light of day. You know that, yes?”

     “How’d you get so smart?”

     “I met a man who taught me about real courage. Imagine, me having something left to learn?” With a crooked grin, he threaded Jaiden’s arm through his he led him from the garden toward the kitchen. “Best get that cook sorted out. Later I’ll have her send the midday meal up to your quarters.”

     “You’ll be there?”

     “If that is what you want.”

     “You know it is, Mage. Now, come and show me around.”

     A few hours later, Dorian led a tired Inquisitor to his quarters. They’d fed the twin colts, made peace in the kitchen, calmed down the Steward and managed to allow the laundry girl to catch them in an embrace. She dropped her laundry and ran. They'd laughed together like boys at their antics.

     Finally, at midday they headed toward their room. Waiting for them on a simply laid table stood two steaming bowls of pottage filled with grain, venison, beans, and vegetables, fresh bread, cheese, and a small dish of early berries.

     “Dorian, I… This is…” He sank speechless into a chair.

     “Amatus, no need to thank me. Every person in this Keep did their part to keep us alive.”

     “I want to thank you… somehow. Dorian…”

     “If you wish to thank me properly, I promise I won’t play hard to get.” Dorian teased further by kneeling in front of his chair.

     With his eyes on that smile encouraging him, Jaiden leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Dorian’s lips. Briefly, the mage imagined throwing the man to the ground and burying himself in his body. But now was probably not the time, so he stood still and responded only when Jaiden deepened the kiss.

     Jaiden pulled away, confused. “I thought you wanted this. I thought you wanted me to.”

     “What?” The mage took his hands. “The things you say. I am only being still so you can find your own way.”

     Hot tears spilled over gaunt cheeks and a blush rushed up his neck into his cheeks. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t understand.”

     The mage caught his chin, “I am here. Just as you were for me.” Dorian kissed his hands and laid them on the table. “Now, you need to eat.”

     They spent the next hour eating and talking, enjoying the quiet well-appointed room and the wholesome food. Dorian got a smile or two out of Jaiden, while they spoke of simple things. When they’d eaten their fill, Jaiden wiped his lips and looked up in surprise.

     “I’d almost forgotten,” he said with a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth and and averting his eyes. After retrieving his pack, he brought it back to the able Dorian pushed the dishes out of the way. “I brought you something.”

     One by one, Jaiden pulled several books from his pack. As he stacked them on the table Dorian read the titles aloud.

     “ _The Complete Collection of the Early of Tevinter History , The Genitivi, Part I, II and III_ and the unabridged version of the _Liberalum._

     “Jaiden, what have you done?” Shocked to his core at this display of generosity, Dorian jumped out of his chair so quickly it fell backwards, crashing to the stone floor. No one ever thought of him… How far and for how long had Jaiden carried those books.

     The Inquisitor could only stare at the mage’s rigid back and clenched fists. He’d made another mistake. How was he missing Dorian’s cues? He hadn’t missed the pile of Dorian’s luggage in the corner of the room. The mage was planning to leave… and, he realized with sickening clarity that boiled the food in his stomach, it probably hinged on the next few moments.

     “Why do you call me amatus?”

     “Do you imagine I’ve used it with anyone else?” Dorian snapped.

     “Do you always answer a question with a question?” Jaiden rose slowly from his chair. “Would you welcome hearing it from me?”

     “If you meant it.”

     He turned the mage around and framed his face to force him to look him in the eye, “Beloved… Yes, I know your language. I brought you those books because I thought they would please you. What do you think kept me alive out there? The memories of our conversations, flirting, discussions about politics and books… Amatus, please don’t leave.”

     Flipping open Jaiden’s top button, Dorian slide his hands inside the man’s collar. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific. Don’t leave Skyhold?”

    Another button.

     “Don’t leave these people? I am very fond of them.”

     “Are you now?” Jaiden whispered his eyes floating closed under the mage’s touch.

     The second and third clasp opened under Dorian’s nimble fingers. “One in particular.” The mage brushed his lips across Jaiden’s cheek. “Will you allow me to thank you for the books?”

     “Only if they pleased you.”

     “They please me. You please me… Show me,” Dorian said softly like he would to a frightened colt and opening his own shirt. “Teach me how to touch you, Amatus.”

     For a moment Dorian chased the hesitant man’s mouth with his own, finally capturing it with a gentle kiss. Then with his hands over Jaiden’s he placed the man’s palms on his bare chest. Dorian’s knees nearly buckled with the force of the current running from Jaiden’s palms into his flesh. With his cock surging to life, he bent nearly double over the man’s touch.

     Jaiden trembled against him.

     “No, beloved.” the mage said soothingly. “Your worries have no foundation. Whatever we begin here is our beginning, our time and our joining.”

     Tears burned his eyes. This was not casual sex after too much wine in a Tevinter bath house. This was Jaiden. The man he’d watched rise from uncertain beginnings to the leader of a fighting team who saved the world. His world… their world…

     Kisses on his cheeks, lapping up tears he hadn’t realized he shed. “Shhh, Mage.”

     Their lips met again with enough force to push the mage toward the bed. Jaiden stripped the mage’s shirt from his shoulders and pulled his hips toward his bumping them together.

     “Your skin is so warm,” Jaiden breathed with his lips foraging at the mage’s neck and shoulder. “Let me see all of you, Dorian. Let me see what until this moment I could only dream about.”

     The mage pushed the man back on the bed. With shaking hands, he unbuckled his belt and laces. After toeing off his boots, Dorian locked his eyes with Jaiden. He took Jaiden’s hands again and together they removed the mage’s leather pants.

     The force of his arousal took him by surprise. He’d thought himself a jaded man, but the depth of emotion in the dark blue eyes tore down his already shaky defenses. He would give everything he had to this beautiful man waiting for him on the bed. Perhaps he already had.


	13. The Truth

* * *

"But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sunrise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." -Jesus of Nazarath

* * *

Tom and his sister Heather sat in the Skyhold castle library flipping pages through one book after another. Heather sat cross-legged on the floor, while Tom slouched in a chair kicking his feet against its wooden leg.

Tom slammed his book shut. "Not even any good pictures."

"We have to be patient," she glanced at the spot where she'd hidden a book that did have pictures. The thought of those drawings of men and women made her blush again. That kind of thing was certainly nothing her brother needed to see so she'd hidden the book behind a row of the dullest titles she could find.

"Are you gonna tell Dorian about that thing you can do with your hand."

"I don't know and if you tell him first, I'll…"

"I won't tell. Let's go knock on the door, I'm bored."

"Tom, the Inquisitor is tired and ill. He needs to rest."

"I don't take naps anymore," he said kicking the chair leg again for emphasis, "Why do they? There's lots more fun stuff to do."

In the master's chambers, Dorian lay very still and watched the pulse point on Jaiden's throat beat with life. The path to this man's bed continued to confound him. One minute, he'd been running to warn the people of Haven about the attack and the next discovering this beautiful man as if he'd been waiting for him. Then smile, by a hesitant smile, they'd come closer until that day when Jaiden teased him into their first kiss. He'd never forget the throaty chuckle and the words 'if you're capable."

They'd saved each other's lives and learned they fought well together. Their love making an easy, loving, and enthusiastic slide into ecstasy. Although, there was one thing they hadn't done and Dorian knew better than to push the issue. He chuckled and acknowledged the excellent pun. Yet there were times when all he could think of doing was burying himself in his golden man, then Jaiden would tense or Dorian would see a certain look in the other man's eyes and he'd back away from asking. Someday and it would be glorious.

While the two men learned to trust each other, the days since Jaiden returned to Skyhold had flown past. They learned that Dorian was very good with sums so he continued keeping the estate's accounts. Jaiden assisted Cullen Rutherford with the soldiers and building conservation. The reality of living in this ancient pile of dark rock was a cracked and ever-shifting antique of a building. It took constant vigilance to keep the replace the cracked stones and reinforce the foundation. No one built castles in this style anymore, but both men loved the look and feel of the thing. The horse breeding business showed promise with two mares already pregnant. Several breeders had inquired about the golden colts. Although they would fetch a good sum, neither man felt they could part with the horses. They often ended their day sparring with the soldiers or riding out to enjoy the scenery on fine days.

Although Dorian still teased Jaiden about his austere tastes, more and more of Dorian's things appeared in their quarters. The plush fur rug in front of the fireplace was Jaiden's favorite. Many evenings found them together in front of the fire with a bottle of wine, books, or a chessboard. They would talk and laugh. Eventually when he noticed Jaiden tiring, he pushed him gently down to the furs to sate him so that he might sleep. The night terrors visited him less and less, but Jaiden's sleep was still often restless and broken.

Asleep, he appeared young and carefree. Dorian knew… the whole world knew that was anything but true. While the mage watched Jaiden sleeping and resisted the urge to touch him, golden eyes opened under tousled hair, "Don't take this the wrong way, Dorian. But you are very good at putting me to sleep."

Dorian grinned that feral grin Jaiden loved and allowed the mage to roll him over on his back. "It's my pleasure, Amatus. The afternoon is young. We could try for a second nap. If you've a mind."

Then Jaiden's face turned serious, "A letter. How could I have forgotten? A letter came for you… from Tevinter… with your family seal."

The mage's shoulders tensed and a mask of control closed his face of all expression, "Where is it?"

"On the mantle."

Shrugging a robe over his muscular frame, Dorian retrieved the letter and quickly broke the seal. The blob of wax bearing his family's crest tossed angrily into the fire.

"It's from my father, the Lord of Asariel himself. And he's on his way here… to Skyhold! A reprisal of the attack on Haven. With old Halward in the lead role of Corypheus, eh Amatus?"

The mage felt a hand on his shoulder. "It will be okay, Dorian."

Maker, how he yearned to turn into those arms and make believe that were so. His father could and had hurt him in ways Jaiden didn't know about. What did the man want, this time? Perhaps he'd brought a women with him to force the issue and shame him into marrying?

The mage rested his head against the hand that gripped his shoulder.

"We'll face him together, Dorian."

Dorian laughed then swallowed the emotion, trying to hide it but failing. "How do you know? How could you know?"

"I know it takes courage to walk away from tradition and family obligations. You chose to follow your own path and for that I think you're very brave."

Golden eyes caught sad brown depths and when Jaiden opened his robe, Dorian stepped inside wrapping his arms around the strength of the wonderful man he never earning the right to love. Yet here he was safe, welcomed and cherished.

"Amatus," he said softly his voice heavy with affection and his cheek against lightly furred chest.

The day Magister Pavus was to arrive dawned cold and rainy. The pelting and dark clouds only deepened Dorian's melancholy. Twice, Jaiden removed the jug of wine from the mage's hand. For Maker's sake, it wasn't even noon. The third time, Dorian threatened to turn him into a toad if he didn't leave him alone.

At midday, six perfectly matched bays clattered over the Skyhold Bridge with Halward Pavus and his retinue in tow. The gilded coach, festooned with the Pavus family crest and colors rolled to a stop in the castle yard. Four liveried footman jumped down and hurried to assist the Magister down from the carriage. Well trained at schooling his emotions from years among the Tevinter upper class and Magisterium, Halward resisted the urge to search the crowd for his son.

Standing in front of the steward and the carefully queued staff stood the Inquisitor and the Altus Mage. Each wearing their best, Dorian looked resplendent in red leather and matching silk lined surcoat. The usual striking snake insignia embroidered into the back of the coat, coiled itself at the hem, ending with a wide-open mouth at his left shoulder.

Standing next to him and leaning slightly against his shoulder to keep the mage from fidgeting stood the Inquisitor dressed in a brocade doublet done in shades of green and gold. The shirt underneath made of the finest lawn, with full sleeves embroidered with the Trevelyan family crest and motto Time Tests Faith. Black trousers and black knee-high boots completed his outfit.

As Jaiden watched Dorian's father alight from the coach he noticed the man was neither bent nor lame. Only the lines in his care-worn face gave away the stressors of his life spent among court intrigue and power struggle. Dark full hair like his son's is pulled back to show off the handsome clean lines of the man's handsome features. Jaiden swallowed hard, he wasn't nervous, he'd grown up among self-involved blowhards like this man. His anxiety increased for Dorian. It poured off the man in waves, letting him know there was more going on between father and son than he knew.

"Welcome to Skyhold, Magister Pavus. Please come inside and allow us to share our hospitality."

The Magister shook Jaiden's hand but made no move to follow him. Instead, he stopped directly in front of his son.

"And does my son also have words of greeting?

"Not here, Father." Dorian sneered, whirled about, and left him standing alone. While Jaiden quickly covered the moment by taking the Magister's arm and ushering him inside.

They caught up with Dorian standing by the fireplace in the main hall. The mage poured wine for each of them handed one to his father without speaking.

Jaiden took a deep sip of his wine and braced himself, "To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, sir? We're very proud of our accomplishments here and if you would like a tour it would be my pleasure."

The Magister set his goblet down without drinking and folded his hands together. Jaiden's heart fell, at the look on the man's face. Was that shame he saw in his eyes? Plainly grieving for his son and perhaps simply trying to reach out and repair what? A disagreement? A family fight. He didn't know, but he would stay and find out. He cared for Dorian too much to leave him alone with the man who obviously had such an effect on the mage.

Deep and resonant with the accent of the Imperium he finally began to speak. "I came to see my son. To hear his voice and, although it is too much to ask, I seek his forgiveness."

Maker's breath. This was worse than he imagined. Jaiden signaled the other people in the room to leave, even the servants scurried out. The heavy door opened and closed. They were alone. Father and son continued to stare at each other while Jaiden tried to think of something to say or do.

"Magister, allow me to show you to your room. Whenever you're ready come back down and join us for supper."

When he received no response, getting drunk seemed like a viable option. He was just about to pour himself another glass when the door slammed open and the shouted laughter of children broke the harsh silence.

"Uncle Halward!"

Dorian's goblet crashed to the stone floor.

Both children began talking at once. Tom leaned against the Magister's leg after he knelt down to greet Heather.

"We saw you from the battlements, Uncle!"

"Have you come to see us?"

"So much has happened!"

"I'm learning to read and to ride a horse! Will you come and watch us ride?"

"See how tall I am now!"

"We missed you!"

Jaiden walked purposefully to the decanter and poured them both a glass of whiskey. Dorian sloshed the drink over the rim, and then steadied it by holding the glass with both hands.

The children began to search the Magister's pockets for treats and laughing when they discovered their treasures.

"How beautiful you've grown, Heather. You're not a little girl anymore."

She nodded emphatically in agreement, "I'm almost twelve now, sir."

"Uncle Halward?" Tom asked, tugging on the Magister's collar. "Do you know Jaiden and Dorian? They've taken very good care of us."

"Yes, children. I know them. Will you be still and silent for a moment while I speak to them? Promise?"

With wide eyes, they glanced back and forth between Jaiden and Dorian.

Dorian finally found his voice and it dripped like acid falling to the floor in sizzling tones. "So what's next Father? Introduce these two as your bastards? How mundane. Even for you."


	14. In Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 21: Hello Fair Readers. I just discovered I had three versions of this chapter going at one time. I'm in the process of combining them now. Chapter 15 is almost ready to publish so maybe you could take a look back at Chapter 14 while you're here. Thanks for stopping by!
> 
> https://www.houseofnames.com/trevelyan-family-crest
> 
> Motto: Tyme Tryeth Troth - Translation: Time Tests Faith

* * *

"In your eyes, the light, the heat

In your eyes I am complete

In your eyes, the resolution

Of all the fruitless searches

In your eyes, I see the light and the heat

In your eyes"

* * *

 “Dorian!” Jaiden hissed rounding on him and grabbing him by the arm and. “The children.”

The Magister stood and faced his son. Gathering the two children to his side, he said. “My son, you have many reasons to hate me. Some you created and a few I earned. When I realized… what you were. I thought only to keep you from the agony of…” He stopped talking and drained his cup.

Jaiden watched the scene unfold from his place by the fire. Two men living a life filled with suspicion and charade. One of them redeemable, the other appeared as if one more burden, one more disappointment might lay him low. Maker, what must life be like for them in Tevinter. Was this merely a misunderstanding between father and son or an example of the entire society?

Then he caught Heather’s eye and saw it. Watched the same pain of desolation and despair springing to life in her dark brown eyes. Eyes that filled with every emotion she experienced. Every joy, every sadness, and every disappointment. The same depth of expression — Jaiden swallowed hard and tossed back the whisky — as her brother. Little Tom he could be spared this and he made a vow to himself that he would make sure of it.

Tom and Heather, he could see it now. The eyes, the jaw line, the thick dark hair. Were they Dorian’s full brother and sister or the offspring of the Magister and a mistress?

 _Andraste watch over them all,_ he prayed.

Dorian slammed his glass on the table. “The agony of what, Father? Don’t stop now. So intriguing. Yes?”

With tears on her cheeks, Heather approached Dorian as if she were afraid of him. “Sir Dorian, please don’t be mad at him. When I was little… before Tom came to live with us. I heard Uncle Halward and Stefan talking about happy they were together and how they knew it couldn’t last. Tom and I have been happy here. So please stop. I think,” she scrubbed a sleeve over her eyes, “he’s been very sad sometimes.”

Heather’s innocent words echoed through the room unchallenged by anyone. The only movement in the room was the crackling fire and Jaiden opening the door to signal one of the servants. Once the protesting children were out of the room, and it took only a look from Jaiden to quiet them, the room was silent again.

“Lord Trevelyan, this is a discussion for family. If there’s somewhere else…?”

“...It is time for truths, Magister. Not hiding in darkened rooms. And I will not leave Dorian’s side.”

The man dropped his chin to his chest, clenched his hands together, and then hid them inside the sleeves of his robe. Jaiden’s heart went out to the man. Anguish and how many years of unhappiness etched into every line of this body.

“May I get you something, Magister?” Jaiden asked his tone deliberately softer.

“Curious isn't it, Lord Trevelyan when one cannot find the courage to speak to one’s own son.”

Jaiden could only nod. “It’s time to find that courage, Magister.”

Rage boiled through Dorian’s blood, igniting it and lighting a green fire, which surrounded him like an aura. Jaiden went to him and discovered him trembling. _Maker_ , the man was barely on his feet.

“Mage. Look at me.”

The mage shook his head like a bull about to charge. “This… this thing my father is about to tell me is not for you, Amatus. Please leave the room. I could not bear…”

“I will not leave your side. Look at me, Dorian. I grew up in a court full of intrigue, secrets, and power struggles. Nothing that your father can say will change how I feel about you.”

The mage snorted a laugh, “I am but an adornment upon your arm. Please leave the room.”

The Magister’s voice filtered into their conversation and both men turned to him.

“My son, you do not yet know what it is like to lose…”

“Is that so, Father?” Dorian downed another glass of whiskey. “By my reckoning, I lost you… lost my Father, the moment I discovered your plan to use blood magic to change me into something acceptable. There, now that’s on the table, the dirty laundry, the secrets, the lies all laid out for the Inquisitor to sort through.”

“Dorian, please. I only wanted to — when I realized what you were — when your mother… No,” he raised his hands in supplication. “I shall not speak ill of your mother.”

The man seemed ready to fall to the floor, but Dorian did not back down. “Then speak of Stefan, Father. Stefan, the great brown bear who now stands in the middle of the room and we all fear to see.”

“I cannot…” This time he reached for a chair, Jaiden made it to his side before he fell to the floor. Kneeling, Jaiden took one of the Magister’s hands and spoke softly, drawing his attention away from Dorian.

“Perhaps if you just tell me? Tell me about Stefan, Magister.”

“In the early days,” the Magister began speaking to their clasped hands, “before Dorian was born I travelled a great deal to learn the craft of diplomacy. There was no question of my future. In those days, eldest sons did not enjoy the freedom they have today.

“In the early days,” the Magister began speaking slowly, pulling the words from deep within himself. With his eyes on their clasped hands, “before Dorian was born I travelled a great deal to learn the craft of diplomacy. There was no question of my future. In those days, eldest sons did not enjoy the freedom they have today.

I met him in Haven. He was friendly and intelligent. He brought me out of myself and made me laugh. His intelligence drew me to his side. At least, that is what I told myself. We talked for hours about politics, magic, religion, the Blight. No topic was off limits for us. We solved the problems of the world. You know how it is. He gave me something my wife was incapable of… My wife. Beautiful, young, educated, and well-bred. Everything a man required to reach for the highest pinnacles of Imperium politics and breed superior offspring. It wasn't until later, that I learned about her heart, that it was nothing but stone. She hated mages, pregnancy, and me.

One night, I’d stumbled through a snowstorm to make it to Haven before nightfall. I should have stayed at the previous town. But I was driven to make it to Haven… to him. I made it as far as the Inn and that’s where Stefan found me and took me to his home. That night, with the exception of holding my first born in my arms, was the happiest of my life.”

This time the Magister found his son. “So you see, Dorian. I understand and for that reason, I would have done anything to spare you… but, as you know, the traditions run deep, my son. The idea of using blood magic on my beloved son…” A sob broke free from the man and his shoulders shook with emotion long buried.

Jaiden looked up at Dorian, pleading silently for the mage to say something to his father.

“I had always hoped you could never make yourself go through with it, Father.”

"I couldn't have gone through with it." The Magister took Dorian's hand. "Deliberate harm went against everything I'd learned about being a mage. Others tried to influence me into it. In the end, after you'd gone. I knew I couldn't hurt you. Not like that."

Dorian covered his father's hands with his own. "Father? Is Stefan still alive?"

"No," he said in a harsh and tear-filled whisper. "He was killed in the attack on Haven protecting his estate."

"I'm sorry. Come and sit with me? Dorian asked rising and tugging on his father's hands. "Tell me about Heather and Tom."

The magister allowed his son to lead him to red velvet divan.

"When I first met them it was on the trek to Skyhold to get the townsfolk to safety. I was told they were orphans."

"You were kind to take them under your wing. But you didn't know, how could you? Heather and Tom are your natural siblings. You mother… if you can recall, you have few memories of your mother."

It was true. He could not deny it. His memories of her were that of a beautiful silent woman who never spoke to him. Occasionally, she would summon him to her rooms to test his knowledge or criticize his dress. If he asked for more, she would slap his hand and remind him he wasn't a child. Once, he'd tried to hug her and she slapped him across the face for crushing the delicate fabric of her gown.

He could see his father through the eyes of an adult now. The origins of lines of sadness, the bent shoulders, and the empty eyes were clear now. That his father had known love only once in his life broke his heart.

"Tell me about my brother and sister."

"Once she'd given birth to those two she forgot about them. When Heather was about six years old, I took her from her nannies on the pretext that she would accompany on a trip. They took their bribes and never spoke of the child again. Heather, for the first time in her life had the freedom to walk in the open, learn at her own pace, and become a woman naturally without all the artifice of court. She loved Stefan and I travelled that way as often as I could. Then one night your mother and I tried to reconcile… I'm not sure and no longer remember or care. Then Thomas was born. She hated him and despised me for getting her pregnant. I feared what she might do to him, so I spirited him away to Stefan's estate.

We had such dreams, Stefan and I. We would raise the two children together and live a simple life far from Tevinter. But that was not to be. They were only the dreams of two lonely men who'd found love where they never expected to find it."

And in that moment, Dorian Pavus grew up. The hatred he'd held on to so hard began to soften as he put his arms around his father and held him while he wept.

* * *

_In Your Eyes,_ Peter Gabriel, watch?v=VK7Z83UbwKM

~o~

Accepting all I've done and said

I want to stand and stare again

'Til there's nothing left out,

It remains there in your eyes

Whatever comes and goes

I will hear your silent call

I will touch this tender wall

'Til I know I'm home again, oh

(In your eyes) In your eyes

~o~

Love, I get so lost, sometimes

Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart

When I want to run away I drive off in my car

But whichever way I go, I come back to the place you are

~o~

And all my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

~o~

In your eyes, the light, the heat

In your eyes I am complete

In your eyes, the resolution

Of all the fruitless searches

In your eyes, I see the light and the heat

In your eyes

~o~

Oh, I want to be that complete

I want to touch the light

The heat I see in your eyes

In your eyes

~o~

Love, I don't like to see so much pain

So much wasted and this moment keeps slipping away

I get so tired of working so hard for our survival

I look to the time with you to keep me awake and alive

~o~

And all my instincts, they return

And the grand facade, so soon will burn

Without a noise, without my pride

I reach out from the inside

~o~

In your eyes, the light, the heat

In your eyes I am complete

In your eyes I see the doorway

To a thousand churches

In your eyes, the resolution

Of all the fruitless searches

~o~

In your eyes, I see the light and the heat

In your eyes

Oh, I want to be that complete

I want to touch the light

The heat I see in your eyes

In your eyes"

—Peter Gabriel, In Your Eyes


	15. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

Many thanks to, Rae (Guest) for the kind words and encouragement.

* * *

     His throat tightened with pride and emotion, Jaiden watched father and son reconnect with each other. They were as Dorian had once remarked, too much alike. Yet, the son must break away and the father must teach the child to become an adult. Some fathers and sons made the transition into the deepened friendship of adults. His own father had always been a friend and confidant, but he’d never experienced the burden and expectations of being the eldest son and heir.

     From his place by the fire, Jaiden watched the mage express tenderness with his father, probably for the first time, by lacing their fingers. With their heads together, they spoke gently to each other. Then Dorian said something that made his father laugh. He remembered his oldest brother and his father’s shouting matches. They disagreed over every detail. As an adult, he could look back with an understanding that it was simply the method their father used to teach them.  
Thoughts of his father caused him to wish he could tell him that so much of what got him through the last two years were from what he learned from his father and brothers. Perhaps he should write his siblings. He promised himself he would. But right now, he should leave these two alone. Jaiden slipped quietly up the stairs to his chambers.

     The candles were gutted by the time Dorian slipped into their bed and curled his warm naked body around Jaiden. He welcomed the gesture by pulling Dorian’s arm over his side and clasping his hand against his chest.

     A long moment and a deep breath later, Dorian finally spoke. “Jaiden?” He whispered into the darkness, kissing Jaiden’s neck to wake him. “I shall not allow another moment to pass before I speak. No more wasted time spent in circumspection or hesitation. I call you amatus to express what I have not the practice or words to say. My golden Jaiden, you hold my heart and my love. Always.”

~o~

     Before the first cockcrow, Heather and Thomas had discovered the Magister’s quarters. Carefully balancing a pot of tea Heather, with her brother in tow with a plate of scones, they quietly entered the guest wing. Tip-toeing into the room they found the Magister asleep and buried under a pile of blankets.

     “Shhh,” Heather warned her brother. Setting the tea and the plate down carefully, they stood silent watching their Uncle sleeping. Should they wake him up? In Haven, they knew not to simply walk in on Stefan and their Uncle. This was uncharted territory for them. They might get into trouble over this, but things had changed. They knew it because they’d overheard the adults talking about Dorian being their brother. And if that were true…

     With a roar the Magister shouted, “Who dares disturb my sleep?”

     Both children squealed when Halward suddenly rose from the bed, scooped both children in his arms, and dropped them on the bed. Once they settled down, the Magister buttered the scones, handing one to each child. Between bites, they spoke excitedly asking their questions in unison.

    “How long will you stay?”

     “You could just stay right here with us!”

     “We want to talk about Stefan. He was very brave. We saw.”

     “But first we want to talk about Dorian because if he’s really our brother. Then that means I’m not the oldest anymore and that doesn’t mean I have to do what he says…does it?”

     “Don’t you already follow the rules Jaiden and Dorian set down for you?”

     “Well, yes.”

     “Duck, listen to me. No, we should all be together for this conversation. Will you let me dress and I’ll meet you downstairs? Look at you, both of you are still in your night clothes. Off with you! Go and dress and meet me downstairs in the library.”

     Giggling and scrambling off the tall bed, the children ran for the door. A surprise! There would be a surprise!

~o~

     Jaiden woke to the sleepy smile of the mage watching him. After years of sleeping alone, both men were surprised and a little embarrassed how they gravitated toward each other during the night. When morning came, they often found themselves in a tangle of long limbs and possessive embraces. They didn’t fight it because it all seemed… well it just seemed so easy and natural.

     Jaiden carded his fingers through Dorian’s dark hair, “Mage, what you said last night… I never imagined. I...I love you, too. Since that first moment, I rolled that bear from you. You taught me not to fear affection. Dorian… my mage, my heart. I know you’ve been patient with me.” He pulled Dorian’s chin up to look meaningfully into his eyes. “I’m ready now to experience the fullest levels of intimacy with you.”

     The mage’s body reacted to the news before his brain. Before Dorian could put that request into action, the pounding of small hands on the door broke them apart. It could only be Heather and Tom, yet they knew better than to disturb them when the door was closed.

     “Wake up!” Heather shouted through the oak door. “Uncle Halward has something he wants to tell us! Hurry! It’s a surprise.”

      Dorian rolled to his side and moved over so Jaiden could get up. Before he let him get too far, he grabbed him around the waist. “Tell me again, Amatus. Those are not words we use where I come from. I’ve never heard them from anyone before now.”

     Jaiden pulled Dorian to his feet and cupped his face with his hands. “I love you, Mage. And do not discount your knowledge of it for it was you who taught me to trust enough to fall in love.” He followed up his declaration with a kiss full of promise and the passion of what was to come.

     While the mage enthusiastically returned the affection, his mind already planning the how, where and what order of tonight’s intimacies, another shout from the hallway interrupted them.

     “HURRY!”

     A few minutes later, Dorian and Jaiden entered the library to find the mage’s father entertaining the children with magic tricks. The mage stopped at the doorway, leaving Jaiden to continue into the room the room.

     This was his father laughing and playing with children… with children. In his entire life, he’d never seen this behavior from him or from any male of his acquaintance. It simply wasn’t done. Life in the Imperium was serious business and often short if you didn’t keep your wits about you. At a loss as to what to say or do, he simply stood still and watched.

     The Magister commented in easy tones, “Son, have you noticed Heather’s innate talents.”

     “I had thought as much. But hadn’t questioned the possibility or the consequences.”

     “You do not wish her to experience the Imperium, train in the best schools, compete with the brightest minds?”

     His hands molded into fists. Here it comes, he thought. “No, sir. I do not.”

     Halward rose from his chair by the fire and crossed the room to his son. “We have much to discuss. The dream… Stefan and I…” Halward faltered until Dorian placed a hand on his arm.

     “Father, let us begin simply. These are good children and deserve to know the truth. Jaiden and I have done our best,” Dorian let the emotion show on his face, “There is no substitute for a real father.”

     When Halward made no move, Dorian tugged his arm, “Come, Father. We have within our means to create a real family. Let us not waste a single moment more.”

     They formed a small circle by the fire and Jaiden’s heart swelled with pride. It was really happening. Two stubborn men were about to cross a difficult bridge and the thought of it filled with him happiness. Then to his surprise, Dorian gestured for him to join them.  
Jaiden held up his hands, “This is your moment… your family.”

     “My family? The things you say, Amatus. Now, be a good Inquisitor and join us.” When Jaiden got close enough for Dorian to touch him, the mage slid an arm around his waist and pulled him tight to his side.

     “Heather and Thomas, it’s time. Yes? First, last night, Jaiden and pledged our love and ourselves to each other. And in the next few moments we shall form a family.”

     “Oh, tell us, Dorian. Please!”

     “Heather, look at me. Thomas?” He cupped the boys chin with his hand. “I always wished for a brother or sister and now I have both. I am your brother.” The mage had to pause for a moment before he could go on. “Your Uncle Halward is our father. Do you understand what I’m saying, children?”

     “You’re saying we’re not orphans anymore. Oh Tom, we have a family again! We have a brother and a father and wait… what are you Jaiden? What do we call you?”

     “I think Jaiden will do just fine.” He laughed and took their hands, “I’ll always be the safe place you may seek when you’re troubled. And, of course, I will still expect you to do your chores and continue studying.”

    “So,” Thomas began thoughtfully, with all the logic of a child, “are you and Dorian getting married?”

     “MARRIED!” Heather jumped to her feet. “Can we have a wedding, here in the castle — No! In the garden — With flowers and pretty dresses, and music?”

     “And cake!” Thomas shouted.

     While Heather planned the wedding, Thomas climbed into Halward’s lap. “So, I can call you Father now?”

     Halward hugged him close, “Of course you may because I am your father. Thomas, listen to me, very soon you’ll start thinking of questions. I promise to answer them all, okay?”

     “Yes, sir… I mean, Uncle… I mean, Father. I’ll be patient. I wish Stefan were here, too.”

     "I miss him, too. He loved you two so much. But we’ll remember him always.”

     “Yes, always. Thank you, father.”

     With many issues left to discuss, like hard questions about mothers and magic training, family obligations and education, for now the small family sat by the fire and talked excitedly about the future. Later, while the children were studying in the library, Dorian approached his father in the garden.

     “Please stay with us as long as you wish.”

    Halward stared at a rose bush, deep in thought.

    “Father?”

     “I heard you, son. Thank you. The truth is I have no wish to return to the Imperium or your mother. I no longer have a taste for the politics of our homeland.”

     Dorian laughed. “Politics? That’s putting it mildly. What of my mother? She’ll question your whereabouts. Surely?”

     “No, she won’t. We haven’t spoken since you left home. I retired from the Magisterium and left her among her jewels, gowns, and friends where she was always happiest. She will want for nothing.”

     “You took a chance.”

     “I had to reach you. Somehow.”

     “Come, let me show you Skyhold.” Dorian pulled his father’s arm through his and led him into the sunshine.


	16. Playing Hide and Seek With the Mage's Staff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all you wonderful readers. Have a great weekend and I hope you enjoy this little interlude with the boys

* * *

“Homosexuality may be proscribed in the Old Testament, but it’s not in the New, because I believe Jesus was more tolerant: ‘I’m bringing the water to Steve and Gary’s wedding this weekend. Although I probably shouldn’t turn it into a house wine; those guys know the difference.’” —Judy Brown

* * *

     Jaiden stood alone on his balcony, watching the sun sink behind the mountains. A day spent working with the men in the orchard left him bone tired, with dirty hands and clothes soaked with sweat.

     The apples were ready to harvest and everyone helped gather the precious fruit. Later, the women would prepare them for storage. Hard work and preparation got them through their first winter here in the Frostbacks and they would be prepared for the coming cold season. Tonight they’d all enjoyed apple pie with supper. Yet, feeling out of sorts and not up for raucous company of the main dining room, Jaiden slipped away to his room before the meal began.

     It’s not as if he were hiding. Well, maybe he was hiding. Was he hiding? That fact he missed supper, stood here in his dusty clothes and dirty hands probably had something to do with hiding. Perhaps Dorian would forget all about his offer of intimacy. Two weeks had gone by since that night, and Dorian hadn’t mentioned it. This afternoon, something happened that had him suspicious and nervous. He was a grown man not a boy, but his afternoon, Dorian caught him coming out of the orchard and when they were alone kissed him passionately. Then he winked at Jaiden and left him standing alone, aroused and confused.

     Jaiden moved away from the open doorway to the far end of the balcony. Far below a path led into the mountains beckoned him. Perhaps he would go for a walk.

     Footsteps behind him.

     Jaiden’s heart took a nosedive into his stomach and began to flutter.

     “Amatus?”

     Jaiden backed up quickly only to find himself trapped against the castle wall. Why aren’t there stairs?

     “We missed you at supper. I brought you some apple pie.”

     Jaiden tried to dodge his way around the mage, only to find his path of escape blocked. “I have something to do and… and I’m not hungry.” Oh Maker, that smile. “Dorian, I…”

     “I’m afraid your evening’s activities are planned. Would you like to hear about it?” Dorian spoke with an arched eyebrow.

     “No… I need to bathe. I stink from the day’s work.” The grin again. He was helpless against those dark glittering eyes and crooked smile.

    The plate of apple pie landed on the ledge before Dorian began unbuttoning his shirt.

     “First, we shall get my dirty boy cleaned up. Come along now. Everything is prepared.” Dorian pulled him along by his open shirt while he drew Jaiden back inside toward the bathing room.

     “Wait… the pie.”

     Everything was indeed prepared. Plenty of hot water, good soap, and soft towels and if they ended up making love on the bathing room floor then a down comforter awaited. Never let it be said that Dorian the Altus Mage was not prepared for any eventually.

     “Dorian wait… what if…”

     “What if? The door is locked and the children are with my father.”

     Jaiden balked, “You told your father!” His shirt disappeared. Gooseflesh prickled along his exposed skin. "Give me back my shirt. I'll catch my death in this wind."

     “I simply told him we needed an evening alone. He understood. Now, come here and let’s get those muddy boots and pants off you.”

     “I’m happy you reconciled with your father.”

     “Don’t change the subject.” Dorian pushed his pants down and off by spreading his hands over the skin on his legs. From his waist to his feet, the mage kept his hands on him while he pulled off his trousers. The simple act of undressing him left Jaiden hard, trembling with need, and anxious about what was to come. If Dorian noticed, he pretended otherwise.

     “Alright, in you go. Wait, your hair is full of twigs and dust.”

     Helpless to resist, Jaiden allowed Dorian to lead him to a bucket where he made him bend over to wash his hair. Without saying anything, the mage leaned against his backside while he washed his hair. The pressure of his hips against his buttocks caused all manner of movement and created sensations that made his hips twitch.

     “Dorian. You’re the devil himself.”

     “Flattery, Inquisitor?” Dorian reached around and pulled Jaiden’s hips hard against his own arousal.

     All along, Jaiden knew Dorian had purposefully kept himself away from… certain intimacies. Occasionally a caress or two and that time out in the lake back in Haven. Otherwise, the mage always allowed him to set the pace. At first meeting, Dorian might appear vain and arrogant. But Jaiden knew better because in the quiet of their room, wrapped together on their bed, the man proved himself a patient and generous lover.

     Then he was sinking into the hot water and couldn’t suppress the sigh of satisfaction as the soothingly hot water surrounded his tired muscles. The mage quietly climbed in the tub behind him. Dorian let him float for a minute or two before he pulled him close and began to wash the golden body.

     The pine-scented soap slid over his skin while Dorian used his strong hands to massaged the day’s work out of his muscles.

     “Dorian, your hands… are so… I think we’ll have enough apples to get us through the winter,” Jaiden commented in a futile attempt at diverting the mage’s attention.

     Kneading the firm muscles of Jaiden’s arms Dorian enjoyed the sensation of touching this beautiful man. So different from the exhausted waif he’d discovered walking alone that night, Jaiden had put on weight and muscle. His skin burnished dark gold by the sun his beauty took the mage’s breath away. The mage followed his hands with a kiss on the broad shoulder. The golden curls he’d first noticed received his full attention until Jaiden fell back against his chest. The movement provided the mage with a full view of the man’s naked body. Each time his hands swept down over Jaiden’s chest and torso, he arched into Dorian’s hands.

     Then all movement stopped when Jaiden stiffened and tried to move away.

     He was going too fast. He knew it, but he’d thought about this moment so many times. The thought of Jaiden’s cock buried and twitching inside him flooded him with desire and mystic energy. How long could he control it? The truth of it is he didn’t want to. He did manage to sink his teeth into Jaiden’s shoulder and whisper, “Stay with me, Amatus. Trust me.” The mage nearly chuckled aloud, he didn’t sound very trustworthy.

     Dorian eased him back into the water and continued to bath him as if nothing had happened. When he was satisfied Jaiden was clean, he turned around, pushed Jaiden down on the bench and straddled his lap. Before he could protest or move away, the mage assaulted Jaiden’s mouth with kisses so deep his head tilted back against the rim of the tub.

     Maker’s breath, Dorian felt like an untried lad, with his body pulsing and seeking release. Between the kisses, Dorian whispered. “I want this… love… can you feel it? I’m going to push down… put your hand between us. Touch me.”

     Pinned against the side of the tub, Jaiden could do nothing but experience the passion of the sensitive bulbous crown of his cock bumping against the tight opening. Then it happened, the water, the soap, and his writhing movements allowed Dorian to take him quick and deep.

     No stranger to the sensations of making love to another man, Dorian found himself overwhelmed by the man beneath him. He’d waited a long time to have Jaiden joined with him. New, and exciting and deeply in love the mage moved experimentally and Jaiden rose up with him.

     “Open your eyes, Amatus. Let me see you.”

     “It’s too much!”

     “It’s not nearly enough. Move as your body commands. I am yours. Fuck me, my beautiful Jaiden. You cannot hurt me. _Fuck me_.” The mage begged urgently, and raked his nails up Jaiden’s back. His practiced hands danced over his chest, pinching extended nipples until Jaiden cried out. The mage stopped but only long enough to rake his nails down Jaiden’s back again. While the mage spoke to him in a calming voice, his words were about sex and lust and promises.

     Lost, Jaiden’s body took over for him and he did indeed begin to move. With Dorian buoyant in the water, he’s able to push him down, hold him still or let him float. Each time he moved the thick quivering walls of Dorian’s body danced over his cock, sucking at him and pulling him deeper inside the mage’s body. Hesitation deserted him; with his chest heaving, he wrapped his arms around Dorian’s waist, buried his face in his chest, and responded to the movement of the ancient rhythms.

     Then Dorian began to move pushing the aching desire of his own cock against Jaiden’s ridged and muscular chest.

     Moving together, they found their rhythm. Lost in the passion, Jaiden wondered why he’d ever feared this. With each loving word and each tantalizing stroke, the old fears melted forgotten into the hot water. He felt himself relaxing as his legs fell open and pulled Dorian closer to deepen the penetration. The unexpected movement surprised Dorian, he hadn’t expected… well, of course _he would know_. The man was the Inquisitor, smart, well-bred and sweet Maker he’d reached that spot deep inside where only one or two lovers had ever discovered. And wasn’t this exactly what he’d dreamed about. Then Jaiden’s hand grasped his cock and the mage moaned in supplication.

     Gripping the edge of the tub with his hands Dorian moaned with sounds he’d never heard himself make. How very déclassé, he sounded like a damn animal. No matter. Jaiden matched each thrust, with his hand pulling and squeezing, spreading his large warrior’s hands over Dorian’s sack and his fingers teasing over the tender skin and around the spot where Jaiden had buried himself. The thrusts continued, long deep strokes, bending him, breaking him, forcing the man’s name from his throat in a long sobbing moan.

     Jaiden’s mouth moved over his chest, teeth sinking into the muscle and locking over a dark nipple.

     Dorian’s entire body froze, locked, and prepared itself. Then it happened, straining against each other, their release rippled over their flesh. The effects washed over them, hot as a dragon’s breath and loving as a maiden’s kiss. The water around them nearly boiling with Dorian’s energy, their combined shouts caught in a kiss that sealed their love and defined their passion for all time.

     Both men collapsed together. “Be still Amatus. Let it happen naturally.”

    “You’re injured?”

     The mage chuckled into the bend of his neck and shoulder. “Only my pride, and my monumental ego, which assured me I was the expert.”

     “Yet, you can speak in complete sentences. That’s something.”

     Dorian nipped the end of Jaiden’s nose. “Now he’s making jokes. You may have to carry me out of this tub.”

     “You are injured… did I…?”

     “Oh don’t be so smug. Yes! You nearly broke me in half you great beast.” Dorian kissed him tenderly, “And you? Did you enjoy yourself?”

     “It’s really quite devastating isn’t it?”


	17. Epilogue

* * *

“...she had regained what I thought she had lost forever, the magical sadness which had drawn me to her, the thwarted look that had seemed to say, "Surely I was made for some other purpose than this?” ― Evelyn Waugh, _Brideshead Revisited_

* * *

  
     Heather Pavus tucked the thick parchment under her pillow and jumped off her bed. The red wax seal she placed carefully in her treasure box. There were a dozen such seals hidden in the embroidered leather box. Only two people knew of the box, one her brother who wouldn’t dare tell, and her lady’s maid who rightly feared another slap on the face for even mentioning its existence.

     Heather checked her appearance in the mirror before heading down to the garden. Her thick black hair hung loose and curling down her back, with a simple garland of flowers braided into her hair to hold it away from her face. She didn’t like anything hiding her heart shaped face or violet eyes. Over a chemise of the finest lawn, she wore a dark purple kirtle. The tightly laced corseted bodice pushed her small breasts up against the lawn fabric, almost revealing the dusky hue of her nipples. If Jaiden, Dorian or her father noticed they would send her back to her straight back to her room. And they had done so in the past. She felt confident that with all the festivities they wouldn’t notice. Today was a day of celebration for her brother and Dorian, but she still intended to be the prettiest girl at the party.

     The gardens of Skyhold nurtured and managed by Dorian and others, showed off her best colors this morning. The sky dawned clear and bright blue with just enough breeze to keep the bugs away. Inside the kitchens, food preparation reached a frenzied state while cooks and helpers rushed to make the last minute preparations for the celebration.  
Outside, guards guided the fancy coaches and wagons to a large field while servants lead the wedding guests to the main room and the refreshment tables.

     Inside their chamber, Dorian and Jaiden we’re arguing. Dorian threw his new leather doublet down on the bed, “Maker’s sake, Jaiden. We don’t have to go through with this! It doesn’t mean anything.”

     Jaiden turned hurt eyes up to the mage, “It means something to me and to your family.”

     “ _Our_ family and I didn’t mean it that way and you know it. I meant that ceremony or no, I love you and we are together. I thought during one or other wild nights of crazy sex or that last time I saved your life we had established that fact. Remember? You saved my life. I saved your life. We reinvented sex…”

     “I can’t do it. I can’t tie you to me like this. I’m just a country farmer, but you’re still an Altus Mage from the Imperium. You have a whole life in front of you.” Jaiden began to pace the room, the front of his rich doublet flapping as he walked. “I can tell you’re bored with me. Don’t deny it!”

     “Oh, yes please my Lord Inquisitor. Send me away to Tevinter, back to where I can embroil myself in meaningless politics. Perhaps I’ll take a wife this time.” Dorian waved his hands in the air and snapped his fingers. “Ha! Enough of all this dallying around with lesser sons of even lesser known noble houses. Yes? Then I’ll have dozen children, with an endless string of young boys at my beck and call.”

     In one angry frustrated gesture, the mage grabbed Jaiden by the arms and pinned him against the wall. “Then every time I take one of those boys to my bed, I’ll think of you and die a little more each time. Because they’ll never touch me the way you do, or kiss me the way you kiss me, or look at me with your golden eyes. They will never aspire me to be better than I am… to teach me how to love…Damn you, Jaiden. Why?”

     “Dorian, I’m sorry…”

     Dorian wasn’t finished and he lashed out at Jaiden, “Do you know what will happen next? Not only will my wife despise me, but each year I’ll get older until one day, boys will find less and less reason to come to my bed. They’ll begin to laugh behind their hands at the drunk old mage. The old man who will die alone always knowing he threw all this away.”

     Dorian balled up his fist and pounded it against Jaiden’s chest. Jaiden twisted his hands into Dorian’s linen shirt. Until finally, emotions spent, they yielded their pride and their fears and simply curled against each other. Jaiden kissed the tears from the mage’s face. He’d pushed him too far. Then again, he hadn’t expected to be terrified at the prospect of this ceremony.

     “Come with me my handsome Mage. Come with me and allow me to proclaim my love for you to the world.”

     Dorian smiled and tied the laces of Jaiden’s doublet closed. “Come, golden one. Today, there’s no more looking back at what might have been. Today, we face the future, looking forward always together.” They embraced, clasped hands, and headed down the stairs together.

     The ceremony took place in the garden, with the handsome couple surrounded by friends and family. Old Maude cried the loudest and even the blacksmith scrubbed the tears from his eyes more than once. Cassandra kept a close watch on Cullen with her arm wound tightly through his. Morrigan stood apart, actually dressed appropriately, and kept her usual enigmatic smile in place.

     With Thomas, Heather and Halward standing as witnesses, they pledged their love and devotion to one another. Then each placed a matching amulet around the other’s neck. Made as a special surprise by Halward in Orlais the amulets were made up of an intricate scrollwork design of the Trevelyan and Pavus family crests. Set with emeralds and rubies and hung on a gold chain it represented all they’d brought to the union and the future they faced together.

     Then Dorian cupped Jaiden’s face in his gloved hands and placed a tender kiss on his lips. Whatever else they may have said was drowned out by the cheers and congratulations of the crowd as they gathered around the couple.

     Then in groups both large and small they headed inside for toasts and food and dancing. Several hours later, when the party was still going strong one of the servants came to attention at the top of the grand staircase, banging his staff on the stone floor.

     “The Lady Cornelia Pavus of Tevinter!”

     Every head swiveled toward the top of the stairs to watch the woman all of them knew about, but no one but Dorian or his father had met.

     Cold like black ice, and dangerously beautiful, she descended the steps without ever watching where she placed her dainty foot.

     A cry from the crowd and a small voice shouted, “Oh Mother! You’ve come!”

     Heather ran toward the woman with her hair flying out behind her. Lady Pavus knelt, crushing the black velvet of her dress on the stone floor, opened her arms and embraced her daughter.

~The End~


End file.
